


The Lives We Touch

by Casazael



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - World War II, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Ancient Egypt, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Inca Empire, M/M, Reincarnation, Slavery, not your usual ABO though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 57
Words: 135,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casazael/pseuds/Casazael
Summary: Inspired by Cloud Atlas. A story where our beloved footballers travelled through time where they kept finding and missing each other. Here they will find that one's action can have surprising effect both in and after their lifetimes. In the end, courage, love, and kindness are what transcends space and time.





	1. Period 1 - 391 AD

**Author's Note:**

> My new story! I started this story a while back but never got to complete it. Recently I sort of went back to it and felt pretty good about completing it. I'm almost done so I'll be posting once a week with multiple chapters at a time.
> 
> Due to the nature of the story, there will be a lot of major character deaths. But eventually, there will be a happy ending. So please just hang in there.
> 
> English is not my first language and I don't have a Beta. I've tried my best to proofread it myself but if you spot any mistakes, please let me know and I'll fix them.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is inspired by Cloud Atlas, which I have no claim to whatsoever. The characters in the story are fictional, which do not reflect what happens in real life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Davus: David Silva
> 
> Guajulius: David Villa
> 
> Cholius: Diego Simeone
> 
> Antonius: Antoine Griezmann
> 
> Merodius: Koke
> 
> Niguestes: Saúl Ñíguez
> 
> Torrestes: Fernando Torres
> 
> Gabi is just Gabi :) 
> 
> Apologies for butchering our babies' names in a sad attempt to make them more Roman/Egyptian...

Basked in the Egyptian morning sun, the Serapeum shone in its usual glory, serene yet majestic. The temple had not yet awakened, but the slaves were already up and about, preparing this sacred place of learning and knowledge, ready to make another great day of discovery.

 

Morning was Davus' second favourite time of the Serapeum. His master still in bed, Davus was free to meander in its labyrinthine corridors and shelves, take in the smell of papyrus, and watch the dust dance around the statues of Serapis, Horus, Iris, and all the other immortal gods in the morning beam of sunlight. Sometimes, if he felt adventurous enough, he could climb to the highest point of the temple that overlooked the entire city and catch a glimpse of the ocean. David had always liked the ocean. It reminded him of home, far far away.

 

“Is everything all right Davus?” a calm voice shook Davus out of his reverie. Gabrius, the slave of the Grand Master, Cholius, director of Serapeum, smiled kindly at Davus.

 

Davus returned the older man’s smile, “I’m fine Gabi. Is the Master up yet?”

 

“Well, you know him,” chuckled Gabi, “The big day is only in a week’s time. We have scholars and disciples from all over Rome. Master has been up since two hours ago, preparing for his lecture. How is your master? He’s supposed to be by Master’s side on that day.”

 

Davus' response was interrupted by the approaching talks and laughter of three young men. The one leading the way, Antonius, was a young man with big light blue eyes and a dazzling smile. David had always liked Antonius. He might be one of the youngest and brightest disciples and certainly one of Cholius’ favourites. But he was never arrogant nor complacent about it. On the contrary, Antonius was always polite and cheerful. The one next to Antonius, Niguestes, was a tall and strong young man with square jaws and bright eyes the colour of steel. He might be the youngest of the group, but always the most fierce and brave, never afraid to speak up his mind. At the moment, Niguestes was talking animatedly to Antonius while gesturing wildly. Trailing slightly behind the pair, was Merodius. He was about the same height as Antonius, but significantly stronger. His jet black eyes matched his hair perfectly. He might not be as handsome as Antonius or as tall as Niguestes, but his face was kind and his smile genuine. In any other circumstances, Merodius would not attract any unwanted attention. But here in the Serapeum, he stood out like a red rose in the middle of the Egyptian desert, all because of the little cross hanging in front of his disciple robes. Merodius was, so common outside the Serapeum yet still rare inside, a Christian. Sometime Davus wondered if that was why, despite his gift, Merodius was always the quiet one. Or maybe he was simply born that way, just as Davus was born a slave.

 

“Good day Davus, Gabrius,” Merodius was the first to notice them, as Antonius and Niguestes were too engrossed in their discussion, “Where may we find your masters? Has Director Cholius not arisen yet?”

 

“Indeed he has, Master Merodius,” replied Gabi, bowing his head respectfully, “Master Cholius was awoken, upon his request, just an hour shy of daybreak. He has been working on his lecture since then and has requested your presence as soon as you are available, Master Merodius.”

 

“Please,” said Merodius earnestly, “I have told you not to address me as Master Merodius. You have been with the director longer than anyone and I hold the deepest respect for you Gabrius. Please, call me Merodius.”

 

“Forgive me Master Merodius,” said Gabi, bowing his head even lower, “Your kindness is without bound. But I cannot trespass upon that. I know my place and I will always address you, with my greatest respect, as Master Merodius. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and attend to my master.” With a final deep bow, Gabi turned on his heels and left hurriedly.

 

Davus could see the look of pain and hurt in Merodius’s black eyes. Before he could say anything, Merodius burst out quite uncharacteristically, “Why must this be so? We are all born equal, sons of the merciful Lord. We shall be brothers, not masters and slaves, or worse, enemies, simply for sharing different faiths. Has our Lord not taught us to be forgiving and loving? Why can we not live in harmony like brothers?”

 

Davus remained silent during Merodius’s outburst, for frankly, he did not know how to respond. Part of him felt what Merodius said was right, but the other part of him, the part that had been so deeply ingrained in him since his birth, told him that what Merodius said was unthinkable. It was against the natural order of things and should not ever be uttered or even thought of again. Maybe that was why everyone liked Merodius but very few loved him. On one hand, he was one of the kindest and most loyal men anyone would ever meet, which made it virtually impossible to not like him. On the other, he was a Christian, yet he did not seek to fight with the pagans for his faith, which made him friendless among both pagans and Christians. The only ones who accepted him were Cholius, Antonius, and Niguestes, Cholius for his talent, Antonius for his company, and Niguestes simply for who he was.

 

Seeing that Merodius had shown no sign of dismissing him, Davus shifted uneasily and said, “Master Merodius, do forgive me. But I fear my master might have awoken and might need me. If you will be so kind, I beg you to allow me to take my leave.”

 

Merodius looked at Davus with those sad eyes and sighed, “Of course Davus. It is not my wish to get you into any sort of trouble. Do send my regards to Guajulius. I hope to see him in the Director’s chamber very soon.”

 

Davus nodded and left without a word. As he was heading to his master’s chamber, he heard the faint conversation between Merodius and Niguestes, with the latter asking in a concerned tone if Merodius was fine.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

As Davus stepped into Guajulius’ chamber, he softened his footsteps and held his breath automatically. He was not sure if Guajulius was awake and, having no wish to disturb his master, he tried to make as little noise as possible. 

 

Guajulius, as it turned out, was still asleep in his bed. Davus let out a soft sigh of relief. He did not particularly enjoy the prospect of waking Guajulius while he was asleep or facing Guajulius when he realised that Davus was not there when he woke up. 

 

It was not that Guajulius was a cruel man. On the contrary, he was a man of fine character, who bought Davus when he was a child and practically raised him since then. But Guajulius did have a violent temperament and was prone to outbursts of anger. Most of them were directed towards Guajulius himself, especially at times when his research had failed him and Davus had long learned not to fear Guajulius. Guajulius without enough repose in the morning, however, was not to be trifled with.

 

The bedchamber of Guajulius was rather spacious. The decoration, however, was not elaborated, unlike that of some of his colleagues in the Separeum. A small golden statue of Serapis overlooked the room above Guajulius’ desk, which was strewn with papyrus and reed pens. Although Davus could not read, he could tell from the frantic writing on the papyrus that Guajulius was not happy with his thoughts. Sighing slightly, Davus proceeded to collect the papyrus.

 

“Davus?” the muffled voice of Guajulius made Davus smile. Despite his hot temper and sometimes rather foul mouth, Guajulius always sounded so soft and, Davus did not how to describe it, human, in the early morning hours between dream and reality. Sometimes, when Davus woke up early and could no longer fall asleep, he would spend hours simply looking at Guajulius’ sleeping form, tracing every bit of it with his own eyes.

 

“Yes master,” said Davus with an easy smile on his face, “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

 

“Hmpf,” grunted Guajulius, who slowly rose from the bed as Davus stepped forward to dress him, “Not the best but I’ll live. I would like to get more sleep but Cholius will probably murder me in my sleep if I do not rise in time to help him prepare for his lecture! Has he called for me yet?”

 

“No master. But he did request the presence of Master Antonius, Master Niguestes, and Master Merodius,” said Davus, while tying the laces in Guajulius’ robe.

 

“Galloping Chimaeras!” exclaimed Guajulius, “All of them and not me! What does Cholius mean by that! They are just children, the oldest of them mere four and twenty years of age. How could he request their presence but not mine!”

 

“Master,” pleaded Davus, “I’m sure Master Cholius has his reasons.”

 

But Guajulius was not paying attention. He yanked the lace off Davus' hand and tied it haphazardly around his waist. “Quickly Davus, fetch my documents. We have no time to lose and we must see Cholius now.”

 

Davus sighed. He would very much like to persuade his master to at least attempt some breakfast. Yet he knew from experience that it was not to be done and simply resigned himself to collecting all the papyrus scrolls he could gather before following Guajulius out of the room.

 

It did not take them long to reach Cholius’ chamber, for Guajulius was practically charging like a stampeding bull. The result was a slightly dishevelled and heavily panting Guajulius, who almost crashed into the room, which was already rather occupied.

 

The man in the centre of the room was Cholius. Tall, strong, and austere, he was known as the most brilliant scholar of Alexandria, and arguably of the entire Roman empire. A man from a rather questionable origin, Cholius had not the luxury of a privileged upbringing like his esteemed colleagues. He achieved everything through hard work and dedication, which he took great pride in. He was never an easy teacher, yet he encouraged thoughts and ideas from his students, as he was a firm believer in the Socratic method. Once he had discovered a true talent, he would tolerate all its eccentricities and do his best to nurture it, like he did with Antonius, Niguestes, Merodius, and long ago, with Guajulius and the famous Torrestes, the brilliant young scholar now a member of the inner circle of the emperor himself. 

 

“Good day to you, Guajulius,” said Cholius, looking slightly amused, “I trust that you have rested and prayed and are now ready to work.”

 

“Forget about rest and pray,” snapped Guajulius, “My mind still functions without the former and the mighty Serapis will surely overlook the latter. Let’s talk business. Do you still insist on giving the lecture same time this coming week? Have you made further progress?”

 

“My dear friend,” said Cholius calmly, “I assure you I have not changed my mind. It is true that I have not time to find definitive proof for my hypothesis. Nonetheless, I am certain that it is correct.”

 

“That might be so,” said Guajulius in a fake calm tone, which plainly indicated that he was trying to conceal his exasperation, “Yet you simply cannot go and tell people that the earth is moving! People will not believe it! Remember Aristarchus? He could not explain how the earth was moving yet we cannot feel it! Hipparchus gave up his work because he could not reconcile the fact that if the wanderers and earth orbit around the sun, the wanderers shall not wander to us. How can you prove your theory?”

 

“As I have told you,” replied Cholius patiently, “the orbits of the wanderers are not circular. They are…”

 

“Elliptical?” asked Guajulius in exasperation, “But think Cholius! The cosmos is perfect. Everybody knows that. To think that such impure shape exists in the cosmos is unthought of.”

 

“Yet what if it is correct?” asked Cholius, still unperturbed by Guajulius’ growing frustration, “What if we have been blinded, bounded by the preconception of the purity of the shape that we cannot see anything beyond it, that we cannot see the truth.”

 

“All right,” sighed Guajulius, “Let us just suppose, for argument’s sake, that such impure shape does exist and the wanderers and the earth follow it around the sun. But it still does not explain why nobody can feel the movement of the earth. If the earth does move, why shall we not lose our ways as we travel? Why shall anything stay stationary?”

 

“Guajulius,” interrupted Antonius, “forgive me for the interruption. But what if there is a force from the earth, pulling everything towards it?”

 

“A force from earth?” asked Niguestes curiously, “What kind of force? Why would no one feel it then? How could the birds fly if such force is pulling them towards earth?”

 

“But we do feel it!” began Antonius enthusiastically, “We feel it every day! Imagine, if we do nothing, if we do not exert ourselves at all, what would happen? We fall to the ground. The same with the birds! They do not fly because they float in the sky! They fly because they have wings. Without the wings, they fall to the ground like any other creatures on this earth.”

 

“But our Lord does not,” said Merodius serenely, “How can you explain that?”

 

Antonius opened his mouth and then closed it. It was clear to Davus that Antonius held his tongue not because he was short for words, but because he did not want to hurt his friends’ feelings. Guajulius, however, had no such concern.

 

“That carpenter god of yours?” he almost snorted, “Forgive me but I fail to see any of the miracles everyone claims he has performed. So maybe he does.”

 

Merodius’s normally kind face was now a dark shade of red. Before he could retort back though, Niguestes held Merodius’s hand with his own, which made Merodius stop. Niguestes shook his head almost imperceptibly. Biting his lips and still looking highly affronted, Merodius dropped the subject, however.

 

“Anyway,” said Antonius quickly, trying to diffuse the tension, “if we accept that such a force exists, it would explain why the earth moves without us knowing! Think, when you are on a boat and drop a sack, it falls not to some distances away. It falls directly below where it started, despite the movement of the boat. Why would this not apply to the earth?”

 

“And the proof of this?” asked Guajulius, “all of these are just your hypothesis. We have not the evidence to prove it, and certainly not in front of all the brilliant minds of Rome!”

 

“That was why I have written to Torrestes,” said Cholius, who had watched in silence the exchange of his disciples without interruption but with proud, “I have explained mine and Antonius’ theories in our letters, to get his opinion. He is in Rome and surrounded by brilliant scholars. I would welcome their opinion too.”

 

“But,” Guajulius looked thoroughly confused now, “but when Torrestes last corresponded with me not two days ago, he did not seem to have received your letter at all. Have you heard back from him?”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Cholius sharply, his face slightly pale, “I have not heard from him but I assumed it was because he was discussing it with the other scholars. Are you quite sure that he has not received my letter?”

 

“Davus”, Guajulius simply nodded to Davus, who obediently retrieved the letter from among the many papyrus scrolls he was holding and read out loud.

 

“Dear Guajulius, 

 

Thank you for your letter and your regards for the family. Olaya is expecting our second child and I do admit I feel a little guilty about leaving Rome for Alexandria at this crucial juncture. Yet she assured me that she will be well looked after and I cannot miss a lecture of this importance. I must say that I am secretly relieved, for I cannot wait to hear what Cholius has to say about his new discovery. It has been quite the talk of the town here ever since he announced it. Everyone, myself included, has been speculating what it might be. Knowing our dearest director though, it will probably be something so completely unheard of yet brilliant that I shall not fault myself for not guessing it right. But do tell Guajulius, if you know anything about it (I am sure you do!). A little secret like this to an old friend cannot hurt, to be sure. If not, then I will see you shortly. In the meantime, I will try to find a way to entertain my mind while I anxiously awaits our next meeting.

 

Do take care Guajulius. Olaya sends her love. 

 

Your most faithful friend, 

 

Torrestes”

 

Once he had finished reading, Davus looked up and could tell that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Both Cholius and Guajulius looked extremely grave, while the three young scholars looked puzzled. Gabi, who was standing in the shadow, had the same expression as his master, which never boded well for Davus. Before he could catch Guajulius’ eyes for any confirmation, Cholius spoke up in a calm voice that may not convey all the emotions going through his heart at the moment, “My dear friend and disciples, I believe we have excited ourselves enough for one morning. I do apologise for keeping you so long. Please, enjoy your breakfast, and we shall reconvene this afternoon to run through some more calculations of our theories. Gabrius shall go fetch you when the time comes.”

 

The three young disciples exchanged a quick look before leaving Cholius’ chamber, Antonius rather reluctantly. Guajulius beckoned Davus forward and they left without a word either. Once they were outside Cholius’ chamber, Guajulius paused and thought for a moment before turning to Davus, “Give me those scrolls.”

 

“But master…”

 

“I need you to go to the library and fetch me anything you can find on Aristarchus and Hipparchus. I want to go through them again.”

 

Davus hesitated for a moment but gave in eventually. He wanted very much to ask Guajulius the meaning of Torrestes’ letter but he knew now was not the right moment. So he simply nodded, passed his scrolls to Guajulius and left to do his master’s bidding.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure what style of English to use for this time period. Not that I'm an expert in any but I tried to make the story sound, well, older. I've probably failed miserably but here you go.


	2. Period 1 - 391 AD

It didn’t take Davus long to reach the library. Once inside, Davus did not waste any time but headed straight to the astronomy section. Before he could pick the scrolls, however, the hushed voices of two persons he knew quite well stopped him.

 

“What they have been working on is heresy,” hissed Merodius indignantly, “I am sorry my dear friend but I simply cannot take it any longer.”

 

“Please Merodius,” pleaded Niguestes, “we have been working on this for the longest time. You cannot…”

 

“We?” Merodius raised his voice angrily but Niguestes shushed him down and he hissed, “we? I have been a mere observer ever since I realised just how abominable their hypothesis is! How can I stand this? It desecrates everything I hold most dear and holy. It defies our Lord and questions his omnipotence! Did you hear Guajulius back in the Director’s chamber? He mocked Him! How dare them! And how can I stand there and tolerate this any longer?!”

 

“Please do not do this Merodius!” cried Niguestes, forgetting himself completely. David took a step back and hid himself even further behind the shelves. When he dared to take a peek through the scrolls on the shelf, he saw Niguestes taking Merodius’s hand into his. “Forget about Guajulius. He has always been a mean miserable sod. But you have always admired the Director, have you not? You know how much this means to him. He was not trying to defy your God. He was just on the way of his quest for truth like he has always been. And who knows, maybe he is wrong this time. But at least give him the chance to present this to all the other scholars of the empire and let them be the judge of this. Please, do this for the Director.”

 

Merodius bit his lips and said nothing. He averted Niguestes’s pleading gaze but did not free his hand from Niguestes’s. When he looked up, he looked directly into Niguestes’s eyes and gave him a long searching look. Davus did not fully understand the meaning of this but it seemed vaguely familiar. It was as though Merodius was looking directly into Niguestes’s soul to find something there.

 

When Merodius finally spoke up, he sounded resigned, “Fine, I will hold my tongue for the Director and for, never mind. Yet I still do not approve of this. Furthermore, have you noticed the look on the Director and Guajulius’ face after Davus had finished reading that letter?”

 

Niguestes gasped and gripped Merodius’s hand even tighter, “Do you think it will be dangerous for the Director to give this lecture?”

 

“My dear friend,” Merodius sounded serious and troubled, “please forget not how many Christians there are in the empire now, a lot of them more pious and devoted than I am. Even the emperor himself is a Christian. If my reaction is anything to go by, how do you think they will react. I have not even mentioned the Parabalanis.”

 

“But they understand not these complex theories,” said Niguestes quickly, as if to convince himself, “Surely they will not…”

 

“They may not have the education to understand the details,” said Merodius gravely, “yet they shall not fail to grasp the idea that the earth is not the centre of the cosmos and moving all the time. How do you think they shall react?”

 

Niguestes opened his mouth but closed it again. He let go of Merodius’s hand without even realising it and started pacing in the room, “they will think it’s pagan heresy and they will not like it. They may even think it some sort of pagan propaganda, against Christianity. They are not to be reasoned with and there will be an uproar in Alexandria, which will put the Director in grave danger. Oh sweet Isis,” groaned Niguestes as he grabbed his hair with his own hands in despair, “what are we to do?”

 

“We need to stop this if possible,” said Merodius in a determined voice, “like you said, for the Director, and for our dear friend Antonius.”

 

“What is your plan?” asked Niguestes in shock, “Are you to inform the Prefect?”

 

“Don’t be absurd! Of course not! You think of me as someone to… No!” said Merodius, slightly affronted, “But I shall speak with the Director.”

 

As Merodius got up to leave though, he turned around and looked at Niguestes, “do you think the Director is right, about this?”

 

Niguestes shook his head and signed, “Merodius my dearest, please do not let this come between us. I can only be faithful to my mind and speak the truth.”

 

Merodius smiled sadly, “Fear not my dear friend, I have never nor will I ever let anything come between us. I have always believed that more things unite us than divide us so it grieves me to see that we still have our differences. But I shall always respect your opinion and honesty.”

 

Without a word, Niguestes stood up and hugged Merodius. As Merodius hugged him back though, Niguestes whispered to his best friend’s ear, “And deep down, whether your God permits you to think or not, you know that we all share the same view on this.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Davus found Guajulius in his chamber, writing frantically in the sand. Davus closed the door quietly, knowing Guajulius prefer not to be disturbed while he was thinking. Totally preoccupied, Guajulius seemed not to take notice. He was muttering to himself while writing and erasing his thoughts. Davus never understood Guajulius’ or anyone else’s work. To him, the cosmos was too far away and grand to comprehend. Guajulius had tried to explain it to him, yet it made almost no impression on Davus. As far as Davus was concerned, his only loyalty and interest lied in Guajulius. Yet Guajulius never ceased his effort in educating Davus. Sometimes Davus wondered whether Guajulius was simply craving human interaction, or this was such an deeply ingrained habit since their childhood that it was hard to shake off.

 

When Guajulius finally looked up, it was way past midday. Without a word, Davus handed Guajulius the scrolls and a goblet of water. Guajulius smiled at him, a rare smile reserved just for Davus that never failed to warm himself from inside every single time, and gulped down the water.

 

“What says you, Davus?” said Guajulius absentmindedly as he opened the scrolls and started flipping through the pages, “Do you believe what Antonius proposed?”

 

Davus said nothing. He knew Guajulius expect not an answer from him but simply a person to speak to.

 

“My mind tells me that his theory makes sense,” continued Guajulius, perfectly used to Davus' silence, “yet my heart shall never forgive me for entertaining an idea that breaches the purity of the cosmos with such an impure shape. An ellipse I ask you! The only thing I liked about this theory,” smirked Guajulius, “was how much it irked the Christian Merodius.”

 

“Master Merodius is just very pious,” said Davus calmly, knowing that he was the only one able to say such things without the fear of facing Guajulius’ wrath.

 

Guajulius simply snorted, “All the Christians are. I honestly do not understand what their problem is. They accuse our gods of drinking and fornicating. So what if they do! They are gods! They are allowed a little bit of fun surely. To lead a dull and dreary life as a Christian where one shall never do and speak as he pleases, I would rather hang myself! And to think they have such a following!”

 

“Master Merodius speaks of equality of men, as sons of his Lord,” said Davus in a low voice, “maybe that was why.”

 

Guajulius looked up and he was dead serious now, “Then Merodius is a real fool for believing it. The teaching of his Lord might be fine and dandy, yet it shall never become the reality, not now anyway. Look at what the Parabalanis are doing outside the Serapeum! They are prosecuting the pagans! If we are all equal, should they not tolerate the pagans?” Guajulius took and deep breath and looked Davus directly in the eye, “I know a lot of slaves, even those inside the Serapeum, have converted to Christianity. Have you?”

 

Davus simply chuckled. Sometimes he thought someone as brilliant as Guajulius could be so daft. Davus had no Gods. His only God was Guajulius, the master who had saved him and raised him as his own younger brother, whom he had sworn to serve and protect since he was a child.

 

Davus' reaction had apparently worried Guajulius, for he pressed on, “Please Davus, tell me the truth. You know I shall never harm you. I just need to know, for your own safety. For if you are a Christian, we need to make sure it stays a secret within the Serapeum, as the tension between Christians and pagans are growing every day.”

 

“Rest assured master,” said Davus with a reassuring smile, “I am not a Christian, nor shall I be one. My faith lies with you.” He then hesitated, for he was not sure if he should mention the conversation he overheard between Niguestes and Merodius. Guajulius of course, knowing Davus too well, sensed his hesitation.

 

“What is the matter Davus? If there is anything bothering you, you can confide in me and I will do my best to solve it.”

 

Davus nodded and told Guajulius everything he had overheard. By the end of the tale, Guajulius was looking extremely grave.

 

“So it is true then,” asked Davus, “the Director and Antonius will be in trouble should they go present their theories.”

 

Guajulius sighed, “I shall not lie to you Davus. Yes, the Director and I are worried since his letter to Torrestes is clearly in the wrong hands. We have not yet given up hope that it was simply delivered to the wrong person or lost. In Torrestes letter to me, he did not mention any unrest in Rome and he has sharp ears and keen eyes. Nonetheless, I believe the Director is taking precautionary measures as we speak.”

 

“You mean the library?” asked Davus and Guajulius nodded.

 

“We cannot let what happened to the Mother Library repeat itself in the Serapeum,” said Guajulius seriously, “We as the guardian of knowledge and learning, have the responsibility to preserve them and pass it on to the future generations. Now that we are on this subject,” Guajulius hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I have a request to make of you. If we are indeed in a situation where the Serapeum might be in danger, I want you to leave by yourself…”

 

“Master!” gasped Davus but Guajulius waved a hand to keep him quiet.

 

“... and pretend to be a Christian if necessary. I cannot disguise myself because I am a known pagan. No,” Guajulius said forcefully at the look of protest on Davus' face, “it matters not if I live or not. You have to leave and take as many scrolls as you can. Preserve the knowledge, remember? It is our only duty.”

 

Davus looked directly into Guajulius’ eyes and felt so many different emotions going through his master, sorrow, regret, apprehension, and determination, but not fear, never fear. He nodded slowly and said, “I will always do your bidding, master.”

 

Guajulius rose up and ruffled Davus' hair affectionately, “Thank you Davus. I am sorry to ask this of you. Let us hope we are wrong and it will not come to this. Now go find the Director and tell him what I have just said. He should be able to use your help.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Davus was not surprised to find Cholius’ chamber to be the aftermaths of a battlefield of scrolls. It seemed like Cholius had taken all the important documents from the library to his room for Gabrius to pack. Cholius was at his desk, writing hastily on a piece of papyrus. What did surprise Davus was the presence of Antonius, who was packing away the documents with Gabrius while chatting merrily with Cholius.

 

“Ever since I read about Philolaus, I began to question Ptolemy,” said Antonius as he picked up a scroll from the floor, examined it quickly, and threw it into a basket, “The idea that we are the centre of the cosmos is very empowering. Yet I just cannot believe it.”

 

“You don’t think we could be the special ones, the Chosen ones, that are at the very centre of the universe?” asked Cholius, who paused his writing, raised his head and smiled fondly at Antonius.

 

“Maybe I am not a true believer,” shrugged Antonius, “Yet Ptolemy’s system just seems so whimsical to me. Why the equant point? It would make more sense to have an elliptical orbit rather than an extra, forgive me, imaginary point at the centre, would it not? I also find his limit of the cosmos unbelievable. Only 20,000 times the distance of the earth? Aristarchus believed the cosmos is much larger and I agree with him.”

 

“But maybe Ptolemy is right? Who are we to say about the realm of the cosmos? We have not a way to measure it,” said Cholius with a twinkle in his eyes.

 

Antonius sighed with slight exasperation, “Sometimes I wish you would not do that, challenge every point I make I mean.”

 

“It has worked, has it not?” smiled Cholius, who looked Antonius directly in the eyes, “You have such potential Antonius. I wish not to limit you but to broaden your mind. The cosmos is vast and mysterious. We know so little of it that it humbles me every waking minute of every day. Let the movements of the stars guide you yet not deceive you. Broaden your mind. Consider all the possibilities and theories before you discount any.”

 

“Fine.” said Antonius in a fond tone, “Is that why I find Almagest and Planetary Hypotheses in here?” When Cholius simply smiled back at him, Antonius sighed deliberately and rolled his eyes at Cholius in a jovial manner, which made the older man chuckle slightly before returning to his writing. Antonius turned away from Cholius and made a quick face at Gabrius, who almost laughed. Feeling satisfied with his achievements, Antonius smiled triumphantly and resumed his packing.

 

Davus could not help but notice that Antonius, in addition to his casual tone, did not address Cholius as sir or the Director as he should. Gabrius, who was usually so upright and particular, seemed not to notice this glaring slip of formality. Davus could only assume that this was a regular occurrence made acceptable to Gabrius through direct order from Cholius.

 

Cholius excused Davus as the sun started to set. After bowing to Cholius and Antonius, Davus left to find his master. The Serapeum was busy as usual, with slaves running around preparing for dinner and scholars and disciples either returning from Alexandria or emerging out of the Library. Davus was never the social one but he dreaded silence or solitude even more, which was why he had always found the talking and bustling inside the Serapeum rather comforting. Today, however, the noises felt different. There was something pressing beneath the seemingly calm surface, which made Davus' heart pound. Hoping that his usually sharp instinct proved wrong, Davus sped up towards Guajulius’ chamber. No matter what the future held for them, he wanted to face it together with his master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm talking about when it comes to astronomy so please forgive my improvisation on that subject.


	3. Period 1 - 391 AD

Davus was woken up by a loud bang on the door in the middle of the night. Before he rose to answer the midnight visitor, he checked Guajulius to make sure he was asleep, for he did not wish to disturb his master’s repose. When Davus opened the door, he found the anxious face of Gabrius.

 

“The Master has requested the presence of Master Guajulius in his bedchamber.”

 

“At this time of the day?” Davus could not help but ask. Cholius had never done anything more peculiar.

 

“Yes,” said Gabrius in an urgent tone, “We have not any time to lose. Everyone is there, including master Torrestes.”

 

This sobered Davus up almost instantaneously, for it was not in Torrestes’s nature to make unexpected calls in the middle of the night unless in real dire situations. He nodded to Gabrius and went to wake up Guajulius.

 

“What in the name of Serapis is the matter?” grunted Guajulius when Davus shook him awake, “Is the Mount Olympus on fire?”

 

“No master,” said Davus, as he started dressing Guajulius despite the death looks he received, “But you must get dressed. The Director has requested your presence in his bedchamber.”

 

“Sometimes I wonder who is the real master here,” muttered Guajulius, who put on the robes only begrudgingly, “Has Cholius said why he is waking up the entire Serapeum in this ungodly hour?”

 

Davus hesitated. He was not certain how Guajulius would take the news in his sleep-deprived state, But he figured that it would be easier to contain the damage within Guajulius’ own chamber than Cholius’. So he simply said, “Master Torrestes is here.”

 

Just as Davus expected, Guajulius stopped for an infinitesimal second before rushing towards the door, or at least attempting, for he was in the middle of putting on his robe and tripped over himself. Luckily, Davus was able to catch Guajulius before he fell face forward into the floor. Panting slightly, Guajulius said, “Thank you Davus. I must get to Cholius now! Torrestes will not announce himself unless the situation is desperate. Oh sweet Isis, what have we gotten ourselves into this time?”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The moment they saw Gabrius standing guard outside Cholius’ bedchamber, Davus knew that the situation had gone from precarious to downright disastrous, for Gabrius was holding daggers in both his hands and looking extremely alert. When he saw them, Gabrius nodded at them curtly, without even bothering to address Guajulius, and opened the door for them.

 

“You must leave this very second!” a loud voice of Torrestes was the first to greet them, “Do you not understand? The Emperor has signed the secret order demanding your arrest for intent to spread heresy. You will be tried by Christians and who knows what after that!”

 

“I am a Roman citizen,” said Cholius in a calm regal manner, “The worst that could happen to me is to be beheaded. I fear not death. If I do die, I die an honourable man.”

 

“But you shall not be brought back to Rome!” cried Torrestes in desperation, “You will be left at the hands of the Parabalanis! They have no regard for Roman citizenship. To them, you are a mere pagan who deserved to be stoned or skinned alive!” Antonius drew a sharp breath but clasped his hand to his mouth immediately. Torrestes ignored him and continued in a pleading tone, “Please do not do this Cholius! You have been my longest friend. I did not come all the way here from Rome, against my Emperor’s orders, to watch you die. You must leave at once.”

 

“Then I must accept my fate,” the countenance of Cholius did not alter at all upon hearing his bleak future. If anything, he looked more determined, “I have long sworn to commit to the pursuit of truth and accept any consequences that may come with it. My possible death shall not deter me from my goals…” Antonius’ face turned white and he instinctively reached out to Niguestes, who was nearest to him, grabbed his hand and squeezed it without even realising it. Niguestes was so focused on the conversation that he seemed not to notice. Merodius, however, frowned slightly. Cholius paid none of them any attention. His eyes focused on Torrestes, he said earnestly, “Please do not think me ungrateful. On the contrary, I am most obliged for your visit my dear friend, for it gives me precious time to make sure we safeguard our greatest treasure, knowledge. Now, let us not dwell on my fate any longer. Do tell me the Emperor’s plan for the Serapeum and the library.”

 

Torrestes opened his mouth and closed it. He looked very much inclined to argue the point of Cholius’ possible death. But the determined look on the older man’s face seemed to have convinced him. Sighing, Torrestes said, “The Emperor refused to sign any official order to grant the Christians access to the Serapeum. Yet…” he put particular emphasis on that word at the hopeful looks on Antonius and Niguestes’s face, “he had expressed no wish to restrain them from doing so. This was made explicitly clear to Bishop Theodosius.”

 

“Then he might as well have handed them the sword of destruction,” burst out Niguestes angrily. Cholius gave him a silencing look before returning to Torrestes, “Then our mission is clear. We must evacuate as many scrolls of important documents as we can while we hold defence of the Serapeum. Fortunately, we have started early. A lot of the documents have already been packed.”

 

“Where are we taking them though?” asked Guajulius, who had been silent since he and Davus entered the room, “Let us face the reality. Outside the Serapeum, Alexandria is filled with Christians. The Serapeum has been our only sanctuary. Where can we conceal these documents? Once the violence and persecution start, it will end at the Serapeum. They will come for us. We are too well-known to stay in hiding forever.”

 

“We might be,” said Cholius calmly, “which is why I intend not to flee. But our disciples,” he turned to Antonius, Niguestes, and Merodius, “are anonymous enough that they might stand a chance of surviving this ordeal.”

 

“I am not leaving you to die alone!” exclaimed Antonius passionately, “Who do you take me for? Niguestes and Merodius should go but I shall remain at your side and face our fate together. You have known me well enough to know that I shall never abandon someone I lo…”

 

“No!” cried Cholius forcibly and Antonius looked taken aback and slightly hurt. “No,” said Cholius in a much softer voice, “there are more important things than our lives my dearest Antonius. Every one of us shall die one day. It is just a matter of time. It is what we have done while alive that really counts. I know it shall be difficult but we must try to contain our feelings and do the right thing. The scrolls represent hundreds of years of intellect and learning of mankind. We must pass it on. I would do it myself if I can, not because I am afraid of death rather because it is my responsibility. But given the situation, I doubt I am within my power to protect them, which is why I must pass this burden onto you. Now, I know I have no right to ask this of you…”   
  


“Then we will do it!” said Antonius solemnly and Niguestes nodded fervently next to him, “This is the least we can do. We will do whatever it takes to protect the documents.”

 

“No, not you,” said Cholius but Antonius interrupted him angrily, “Please Cholius, I am ready! I have been ready for a long time. You have to trust me! I am just as willing to die for our cause as you are! I will protect those documents until my last dying breaths! I am not a child anymore. I am a good fighter and I can do this. You have taught me well after all, have you not?!”

 

“No,” repeated Cholius, his steel grey eyes bored into Antonius’ blue ones, “you will do no such thing. It is not a matter of trust or personal feelings. You shall not do this because you are a pagan, and the most gifted scholar I have ever seen. I want you to live, Antonius! I want you to live and finish what we have started! If you are ever caught with those documents, you would have sealed your fate irrevocably. So I want to you to leave Alexandria, to hide, and…” his voice cracked and he fixed Antonius with such an intense gaze that he seemed to be memorising every single feature of Antonius’ being, “to forget me.”

 

Antonius looked utterly dumbfounded. He stared at Cholius for a long time, his eyes welling up. Not one other person in the room made any noise. Then, before anyone could say or do anything, Antonius turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

 

Cholius closed his eyes for a second. Davus had never seen him so shaken before. When he opened his eyes, Davus swore he could see tears, so foreign a concept for Cholius, their brilliant tough director, forming in those eyes. Davus saw Niguestes exchange a quick look with Merodius, which made him wonder if those two had suspected this all along. Guajulius looked utterly perplexed but there was no surprise in Torrestes’ face. If anything, it was filled with pain and sorrow. 

 

When Cholius turned to speak to Niguestes, however, his voice was calm, “Niguestes, the same applies to you. You must go with Antonius. You are tough and he’s clever. Together, I think you shall survive. Inform the other disciples too. They shall be evacuated as soon as possible.”

 

“But what about the documents Director?” asked Niguestes.

 

Cholius took a deep breath and turned to Merodius, who had been silent the entire time. Merodius did not betray any sign of surprise. Instead, he held Cholius’ gaze with a solemn determined look. It was Niguestes’s turn to gasp and clasp his hand to his mouth.

 

“Merodius, I know it is a lot to ask,” said Cholius, “But you are our best and perhaps only chance. As a Christian, you alone have immunities from the persecutions and purge. Will you do this for us, for all mankind? Will you be Prometheus and carry the fire of human enlightenment, preserve it, and pass it on?”

 

Merodius turned instinctively to Niguestes, who was looking at him with an imploring look on his face, and said slowly, “My God and my faith forbid me to do this. Yet sometimes you have to listen to your heart. Now might be the time for me to finally do so,” he looked at Niguestes again, took a deep breath, and said firmly, “Yes, I will carry and protect those documents with my life.”

 

“Thank you!” Cholius stepped forward and held Merodius’s hand, “We owe you so much. Mankind owe you so much, for everything.” He then hesitated for a second, as if he could not bring himself to tell Merodius the truth, before saying, “Yet you do realise, that this means you shall never see any of us again.”

 

“What?!” burst out Niguestes as Merodius turned to look at him, shock written all over his face, “Why?”

 

“Because we cannot risk him being associated with a pagan,” sighed Cholius, his head bowed as if he could no longer bear this burden, “This is the only way to ensure the safekeeping of our documents.”

 

“But…” muttered Niguestes, his eyes filled with tears and his voice barely a whisper now, “but, never?”

 

“I am truly sorry,” said Cholius.

 

Merodius wrapped his arm around Niguestes’s shoulder, an act of intimacy never seen on him before, and said in a soft voice, “The Director is right. This is the only way. We have had so much time together, so many memories. Though I may never behold your face again, I shall cherish those memories all my life. Fear not my dearest dearest friend, I shall never forget you. I shall think of you every waking moment of every day, for the rest of my life. And I shall pray to our Lord every day for your safety and happiness.”

 

“Merodius,” Niguestes broke out in tears and Merodius held his head to his shoulder while patting him gently on the back, “Everything shall be fine my dear friend. This might be our farewell this lifetime. But I have a feeling we shall meet again. And I shall pray every day that the next time we meet, it shall be a different world, with nothing standing between us, tearing us apart. Come on, let us find Antonius for you.” With that, he reached for Niguestes’s hand and held it firmly. Niguestes looked up and saw Merodius’s serene smile. He sniffled and nodded slowly, still unable to utter a single syllabus. Merodius bowed to them in silence before leading Niguestes out of the room.

 

Cholius turned to Torrestes, looking careworn, “Now my dear friend, you should be gone too. I wish not to detain you any longer for you have risked enough already.”

 

“But…” Torrestes’ opened his mouth to protest but Cholius held up his hand to silence his former disciple, “I do understand and appreciate your gesture, a sign of true friendship. Yet your presence helps us not. Unless I am very much mistaken my friend, your situation in the house of the Emperor is rather precarious, is it not?”

 

Torrestes looked down and sighed, “I cannot pretend that the Emperor might have grown tired of my presence and weary of my pagan beliefs. The Christians are gaining grounds in Rome as we speak, and not just in popularity, but also in influence and power. The Emperor’s house is filled with them. Many of his previous pagan companions and advisors have converted. In fact, I think I am the fair few pagan left and my influence on the Emperor has diminished significantly. In fact, had it not been for Ramus, I would not even learn of the Emperor’s secret order until it is too late.”

 

“I am truly sorry my friend,” said Cholius in a solemn tone, “I wish only the best for you yet sometimes, one man cannot fight against the tidal waves of changes. I fear we have reached the end of our era. What frightens me more though is what awaits humanity in this new world, with differences of faiths and opinions not tolerated and pursuit of knowledge not encouraged.”

 

Torrestes said nothing. He simply walked to the window and stared into the darkness outside. Guajulius, however, broke the silence, “You should go Torrestes. Go back to Rome and become a Christian.”

 

Torrestes turned around sharply and cried, “Are you out of your mind Guajulius? Me, a Christian? Never! I am willing to die for our beliefs just as much as everyone does! I want to stay here with you, till the very end.”

 

“Guajulius is right,” said Cholius in a flat tone, “We know how faithful you are to our beliefs and how brave you have been. But you are not like us. You have not been marked and you still have a chance to live.”

 

“I am not…” cried Torrested but Cholius interrupted him in a more urgent tone, “Listen to me, my friend! You have been a good friend of the Emperor for a very long time. You have been influential in his house until recently. You still have friends like Ramus in the emperor’s house, who despite his faith, is willing to help you. With you alive and converted to Christianity, we still have one last hope.”

 

Torrestes laughed bitterly, “I doubt I can change anything. I may gain my good grace back with the Emperor if I convert. But like you said, the end of our era cannot be prevented.”

 

“But it may be delayed,” said Cholius, “which shall give us precious time to safeguard our greatest treasure. With you in Rome, more of our disciples may be protected.”

 

Torrestes gave Cholius a long hard look before saying, “Fine. I shall go. Against my will and my heart I shall convert.” He shook his head and muttered, “A Christian! Oh sweet Isis give me strength.”

 

“Sometimes it takes more courage to stay and live,” said Guajulius, “than to leave and die. To die for your beliefs may be painful but the pain is quick and the death honourable. To live through all those years for your beliefs, however, takes real courage. For that, I salute you.”

 

“I shall remember that,” said Torrestes with a bitter smile, “for I shall need this to give me the courage to go on in the years to come.” He took and deep breath and strode towards Cholius and Guajulius. Taking both their hands, Torrestes said in a slightly choked voice, “Farewell my friends! We may never see each other again in this world. But we shall always be reunited in the realm of Serapis. May the gods be with you!” With that, he left the room hastily, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

 

The once crowded room almost empty, Cholius turned to Guajulius at last, “I suppose there is nothing I can say to persuade you to leave.”

 

Guajulius laughed, “What good will that do me? Me, the most outspoken and anti-Christian pagan in Alexandria? I shall be lynched the moment I step outside the Serapeum. No, I intend to stay and help you as much as I can.”

 

Cholius sighed and opened his mouth, but Guajulius stopped him, “Please save the trouble. I know you are sorry, etc. But the point remains, there is nothing we can do to change my situation. Not that I want it altered. I’d rather die a quick death and pretend to be a Christian for the rest of my life. So let us get to work.”


	4. Period 1 - 391 AD

Merodius stopped by Cholius’ chamber just an hour shy of daybreak. He looked exhausted and careworn but still determined. “I have just bid my farewell to Niguestes and Antonius, who had taken their leave as we have agreed. The others have been informed and are on their separate ways. I am here to pick up the scrolls.”

 

Cholius nodded, “Thank you Merodius. I am glad Niguestes and Antonius have left with the others. May Serapis be with them, protect them, and guide them to safety. Here are the most important scrolls.”

 

Merodius took the baskets. Before he left the room, he turned around and said, “Are you sure you are not leaving Director?”

 

Cholius smiled serenely, “I am afraid so my young friend. I have long accepted my fate and so fret not. I shall welcome my own death with opening arms. My only hope is to save the innocent others while I still can.”

 

“I did not think I could prevail on you,” smiled Merodius bitterly, “I just want you to know that even though we have our different faiths, I have always admired and respected you, both as our Director and our mentor. I will always be grateful for your guidance and wisdom.”

 

“Thank you Merodius,” said Cholius with a genuine smile on his face, “This is the highest praise a teacher could hope to get. My greatest pleasure is that I have been able to teach you and nurture your talent.”

 

Merodius nodded and hesitated for a second before saying, “One last thing, Antonius asked me to give you this.” He extracted a small lapis lazuli cheetah out of his pocket and handed it to Cholius, who held it in his palm with misty eyes. “He has had this family heirloom since his father passed away. He said it reminded him of me, which is why he likes it so much. He always joked that he would give it to me one day if we are never to see each other again, something to remember him by. I suppose this is the day then.”

 

“I am afraid it is,” said Merodius in a slightly choked voice, “If it is any consolation, it is something he really treasures, not for its value, but for what it means to him. He was distraught that he had to leave that he could say nothing when he gave it to me.”

 

“There is no need for him to say anything,” said Cholius, holding the cheetah so tightly that his palm bleed, “I know what he wants to say, I always do.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The sounds of the morning birds accompanied by the rising sun gave the illusion that today might just be an ordinary day of the Serapeum. Davus closed his eyes and tried to imagine the usual bustling noises he was so accustomed to, slaves walking and whispering, scholars discussing or praying. But today, none of that could be heard. The only sound today was the rustling of the scrolls. 

 

Davus looked at Guajulius, who was so focused on going through the scrolls that his eyebrows were knitted together in concentration. Davus wondered, for a brief moment, if Guajulius actually feared what might become of them. He himself could not help but imagine what it might be like to die because that eventuality seemed to be coming towards them with a faster pace as each second went by. Davus was no stranger to sufferings. In his early childhood, he was constantly hungry, exhausted, or beaten up by his slave traders. He almost began to accept that as what life had in store for him, until Guajulius charged into his life and threw all those past miseries behind him. Now, for the first time since Guajulius became his master, Davus found himself in the same, if not worse, situation as before. But strangely enough, he was not frightened, for he knew Guajulius would be there with him, till the very end, and the mere thought of Guajulius’ grumpy face seemed to instil a sense of calm into Davus' heart.

 

“It is time,” said Cholius abruptly after another hour, “Davus, please go and summon Gabrius.”

 

Davus went outside to beckon Gabrius inside. Despite having spent the entire night standing guard outside, Gabrius betrayed no sign of fatigue. He was still his usual self, stoic, silent, vigilant, and dependable.

 

“My dear friend,” said Cholius to Gabrius, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing, “Permit me to address you so for I have always regarded you as my friend, despite our social statuses. You have spent the longest time with me and have helped me in more ways I can imagine. But I must ask one last thing of you. Please take these documents with you and leave. Go away as far as you can and protect them as much as you can.”

 

For the first time, Davus saw the utterly shocked expression on Gabrius’ face. He recovered quickly enough though, and said, “I am not leaving you, master. You are my master and I shall never protect you until my dying breath.”

 

“Gabrius,” said Cholius urgently, “please do not make this harder than it is. We have not much time.”

 

“I am,” repeated Gabrius firmly, “NOT leaving you. You are my master!”

 

“I am no longer,” said Cholius, holding out his hand. A small key was in his palm and Gabrius gasped. Cholius ignored him and pressed on, “You are a free man now Gabrius. I should have done this a long time ago but I suppose now is still not too late. Remove your collar and leave here. Live your life as a free man Gabrius. You deserve it.”

 

“No,” Gabrius shook his head violently, “I want not this! I want to stay with you.”

 

“Is freedom not something you have always wanted?”

 

“Yes,” said Gabrius, almost angrily, “But not like this! I want to be free so I could be your equal. So I could study the ways of the cosmos like you do! I do not want to be free so I could abandon you when you need me the most. I would never do that to a friend let alone you!”

 

Cholius closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Then I am very sorry to say this. But as your master, I am ordering you to take the documents and leave the Serapeum, or Alexandria for that matter, this very instance. I also order you to remove your collar once you are outside the Serapeum, destroy it and never put it back on again.”

 

Gabrius looked at Cholius, his mouth slightly open from shock. Davus could swear he could see the hurt look in Gabrius’ eyes. But Cholius turned around so that the only thing Gabrius could see was his back. Moving slowly towards the baskets of documents, Gabrius bent down to retrieve them and said in a low voice, “If it is your will.”

 

“It is,” said Cholius, still with his back turned, “now you may go.”

 

With a final bow, Gabrius left the room without a word. When Cholius turned around, his cheek was wet. Guajulius, who had been silent during the exchange, sighed and walked next to Cholius and patted him on the shoulder.  

 

“I suppose this is it then,” said Cholius after he had regained himself, “This is the end.”

 

“Not the end I have pictured for myself but I suppose,” said Guajulius with a small smile on his face, “I had always thought I’d be surrounded by someone more agreeable or more frightened of me when I am ready to die. Yet here I am, with you.”

 

Cholius chuckled as well, “I am sorry to break it to you my friend, but you are not my dream companion on my deathbed either.”

 

“We are even then,” laughed Guajulius, “But still, there could be worse companions than you. Besides, I’ve got Davus here with me.”

 

Cholius cast a quick look at Davus before saying, “So you are not…”

 

“No,” said Guajulius calmly and Davus felt a sudden rush of relief, “because even if I do, he would never leave me. Am I right Davus?”

 

“Yes master,” said Davus with a smile, “never.”

 

“It is nice,” said Cholius, “to have someone you love you next to you…” and his voice trailed away as he looked outside the window. Davus thought maybe he was tracing Antonius’ journey in his mind, wishing he could be with the younger man.

 

The loud banging noise outside interrupted the silence inside. Everyone paused to listen, although there was really no need. It was unmistakably the sound of wood pillars clashing with the front door. Cholius stood up, arranged his robes carefully, and said in a composed tone, “Dear friends, it is time for us to face our destiny.” With that, he opened the door to his chamber and walked out, his head held high. Davus turned to look at Guajulius, who was looking at him as well. There was no look of panic or fear on Guajulius’ face, only that of pride and serenity. Smiling slightly at Davus, Guajulius extended out his hand. Davus took it without even thinking and the two of them followed Cholius out of his chamber, hand in hand, into their certain doom.


	5. Period 1 - 391 AD

When the mobs and parabalanis finally broken down the door, they were greeted with a completely empty Serapeum but for three lone figures. Cholius, in his finest robes, stood erect and regal. Guajulius, his usual look of contempt and boredom on his face, was standing with his hand linked to Davus', who despite his shabby clothes, no longer had his collar on his neck. None of them had the slightest trace of fear on their faces, even though they were outnumbered a hundred to one. This sheer display of bravery seemed to have shocked even the parabalanis to a temporary silence.

 

“Why have you come to the Serapeum, may I ask?” asked Cholius in a composed manner, as no one else seemed willing to break the silence.

 

“We are here,” said the lead parabalani, Pepius, the most ardent and violent of them all, “to convict you pagans who have the audacity to defy the one true God, our mighty Lord.”

 

“Is your mighty Lord not the merciful one?” said Guajulius in a mocking tone, which drew cries of outrage from the mob, “If so, he would have forgiven us surely.”

 

“How dare you!” seethed Pepius, “You abominable pagans! You have no respect for the higher order! None of you! Worse still, you have no moral qualms about your despicable behaviour! Look at you! You call yourself a scholar yet all you do is fornicating and consorting with your slave!”

 

“Oh do forgive me,” Guajulius raised an eyebrow in a maddeningly taunting manner, “I knew not you are such an authority in law. The last time I checked, I could not find any statute forbidding a Roman citizen to do whatever he pleases with his slave. But of course, I am no one compared to you. I must defer to your expert opinion on the matter.”

 

Pepius’ face turned red and he shouted angrily, “It matters not! We have better reasons to condemn you! We have information that you have suggested that the earth, the creation of God, the centre of the universe, is moving. This is pure heresy and shall never be tolerated. You will all pay for this and be stoned!” With that, he turned to the mob and started chanting, “Death to the pagans!”, which triggered a new explosion of shouting and movements from the crowd.

 

“If it is thy belief,” said Cholius not looking slightly disturbed, “so be it. Everyone is entitled his opinion. That is my belief.”

 

“Believe all you want,” sneered Pepius, “You will see that we are right when you are in hell, for that is where you are going and where you will be judged.” 

 

“We shall have to see about that,” replied Cholius, “But whatever our offences might or might not be, you certainly have no rights to pass judgement, nor the authorities to execute them on a Roman citizen.”    
  


“You would think so would you not pagans!” laughed Pepius triumphantly, “Yet we have words from the Emperor to Bishop Theodosius. Thanks to the advice of Florentius, the Emperor has outlawed all religions and worships except that of Christians and Jews. We have every authority over you!” He turned to the mob and shouted, “Stone the pagans!”

 

As if in slow motion, Davus saw the mob taking stones out of the pockets of their robes. Instinctively, Davus grabbed Guajulius by the arm and pulled him under, trying to shield his master with his own body. But Guajulius simply looked at him and said in a whisper, so quiet among the noises yet so clear to Davus, “There is no need my dearest Davus. We are in this together. And for once, I wish not to be your master, but just me, Guajulius, right here with you, until the very end.” With that, he pressed his lips to Davus, who returned the kiss with such fervour that he knew not he possessed.

 

After what seemed like a lifetime, or it could be just seconds, as time and space had lost their meanings, they broke apart. To Davus' surprise, he did not feel any pain inflicted upon him by the angry mob. When he looked up, he saw Cholius standing in front of them, his arms wide, trying to shield them as much as possible with his broad back. All the stones aimed towards them were stopped by Cholius, who was trying to protect his disciples like he always did. Tears filled Davus' eyes and he heard Guajulius mutter, “No, Cholius, no…” Before either of them could do anything though, Cholius, their resolute and unbeatable director, had finally succumbed to his wounds and pains. With a loud thud, he crumbled to the floor, his steel grey eyes wide open, and let out his last breath.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Davus knew not how to feel. For despite their obvious predicament, he still could not grasp the idea that Cholius, the toughest, bravest, and wisest of them all, the one who had protected, guided, and loved them all, had succumbed to death by the hands of those so decidedly below him. Davus thought of Antonius. For a moment, he wondered if Antonius felt this, an acute pain cutting through his heart that his mentor, friend, and love had left him forever. Antonius must have, thought Davus, for when two people loved each other so much, their souls became connected.

 

The mob, however, had no regard for Cholius. In fact, his downfall seemed to have incited them even further. Pepius’ victorious cry could be heard even over the din, “The Chief pagan is dead! Praise the Lord!” The others roared in response with almost maniacal glee in their eyes. Before Davus or Guajulius could do anything, they crowded over Cholius and proceeded to batter his body.

 

Davus gasped and turned instinctively to Guajulius, who had his fists balled up and his teeth clenched in rage. The fact that someone as great as Cholius would be deprived of a proper burial ceremony appropriate for him was distressing enough. The humiliation inflicted upon him by the mob was simply outrageous. Yet there was nothing they could do to stop such injustice, for they were going to share the same fate as Cholius. Tears fell silently down Davus' cheek and he couldn’t help but sob a little. Guajulius, still breathing heavily, turned to Davus and gently wiped those tears away.

 

When Davus gazed into Guajulius’ eyes, he saw so much emotion in those dark eyes that he felt himself drowning in it. There was no fear, but love, sorrow and determination.

 

“Fear not my love,” said Guajulius in a loving whisper and Davus simply looked into his eyes, entranced, unable to speak nor move, “I shall never let them harm you. I wish I could spend more time with you but I have a feeling we shall meet again, in another lifetime. Adieu my love, until we meet again.”

 

The slash of the throat should hurt, but Davus felt no pain. As his vision blurred, he could still feel Guajulius’ hands holding onto his, his lips next to his ears, whispering comforting words. He wanted to raise his hand and touch Guajulius’ face, telling him that he was grateful, grateful that Guajulius allowed him to die a happy man, in the hand of the man he loved the most in the world. But he had no strength left in him. Yet he was not worried, for Davus knew that Guajulius must understand him, as he always had. So all he did was to lock his eyes with Guajulius’, trying to remember everything of those eyes so he could find Guajulius in another lifetime, until he finally closed his eyes… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of Story 1. Story 2 will be up next weekend.


	6. Period 2 - 1273 AD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second story during Medieval Spain. The story is written from Saúl’s POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to get the historical background correct but I might have missed something. If so, please forgive me. My history PhD friend is too busy writing her thesis to read my story lol.

Everyone in the city of Toledo knew of Señor Florentino de Pérez, the Count of Segovia. In addition to being an affluent landowner, Count de Pérez was also a close friend and confidant of the King, Alfonso X of Castile. His loyalty to the King during the rebellion of nobles had not only earned him the King’s personal gratitude but also made him one of the most influential noblemen in court. The only other nobleman in court with matching power was Señor Diego de Simeone, the Count of Burgos, who, unlike Count de Pérez, gained the King’s regard on merit and virtue alone. Apart from being a valiant soldier who had led the King’s army in numerous battles against the Moors, Count de Simeone was erudite and honourable. Well-versed in Latin and legal statutes, Count de Simeone was one of the King’s most trusted advisors. His fine tastes in art and literature also earned him respect among the King’s inner circle. Count de Pérez greatly resented Count de Simeone’s popularity; for the two could not be more different.

 

The manor of Count de Pérez was a magnificent one, as Count de Pérez was never one to deny himself the worldly pleasure. Completely white on the outside, it was filled with lush Persian rugs, exquisite ancient sculptures from Rome, intricate jewellery made of gems and ivory from Africa and ornate furniture inside. But to Saúl, a servant in the house, it was little more than a beautiful cage.

 

Despite his tender age of 18, Saúl had spent more than 10 years in the household of Count de Pérez. His parents were mere peasants and Saúl had the misfortune of being the youngest son. When their situation had become truly destitute, Saúl’s parents had no choice but to sell him to the Count’s household to be a groom. Saúl did not mind the job really. He had always liked animals, having grown up with plenty of them in his childhood. What he was wary of was the Count.

 

Count de Pérez was not a cruel master by any means, at least not on the surface. On the contrary, the pay was generous and Saúl got plenty of free time to visit his family and friends. Yet Saúl did not like nor trust Count de Pérez, whose presence made him feel uncomfortable even though he could hardly understand why. This was why Saúl was out on the street on a Wednesday afternoon, wandering around aimlessly.

 

When he walked past a small art shop, however, Saúl paused, wondering if he should go inside. Saúl’s the eldest cousin, Villa, was a struggling painter. Because of their age difference, Saúl was never really close to Villa. But he heard that someone from this art shop had finally agreed to buy some of Villa’s work. To be quite honest, Saúl could not wait to meet this mysterious art dealer; for he failed to apprehend why anyone in their sane mind would spend time and money on Villa and his work. Taking a deep breath, Saúl pushed open the door of the shop.

 

The young man behind the desk looked up. The first thing that entered Saúl’s mind was how small and fragile he looked, which made Saúl wonder how he could handle someone as grumpy and hot-tempered as Villa. But when the young man smiled, Saúl felt like his whole world had just brightened up a little.

 

“Good day, sir,” said the young man in a cheerful voice, “please feel free to look around. I’d be more than delighted to present you some of our finest work.” He got up and walked towards Saúl to shake his hand, “My name is David Silva.”

 

“Good day Señor Silva,” said Saúl a little awkwardly, as he couldn’t help but notice the exotic look of Silva. As if reading his mind, Silva smiled again and said, “I am from Sevilla. My father is a Christian but my mother sails from the Red Sea. I only moved to Toledo about a year ago. Enough of me though. How can I help you today? I know we may not have the work of the most renowned artists. Nonetheless, some of our young aspiring artists have exhibited great potential. For instance, this panel over here…”

 

“Actually,” fidgeted Saúl uncomfortably, “I am not here to buy anything.”

 

To Saúl’s great surprise, Silva’s smile grew even bigger, “A fellow art enthusiast then. I salute you, sir. Fret not; for I have the highest respect you. Sometimes art is not meant to be bought, but simply to be appreciated.”

 

Saúl felt his face grew hot. Despite being the cousin of an artist, Saúl himself had never shown any inclination to any form of art. The things that usually occupied Saúl’s mind were those of a more practical nature. He cleared his throat and said, “I am, in fact, the cousin of David Villa. I understand that you have some of his work so I just want to introduce myself and…”

 

“Oh!” cried Silva enthusiastically and he was practically beaming, “You are Villa’s cousin! He is an artist truly close to my heart. I personally think his talent is grossly overlooked. Here,” he guided Saúl towards a panel painting of vibrant colours, “look at this one. A lot of patrons find Villa’s work too strong and intense. I, on the other hand, really adore this. Look at his use of colour, so bold and daring. And his brush stroke too, very strong, is it not? You can feel his passion and see his soul through his painting. Moreover, look at what he was painting. His subjects are everyday people like you and me. It is so rare yet so refreshing to see a painter like this.”

 

Saúl understood what Silva was referring to. Unlike most of his peers, Villa had no interest in Christian art. Saúl sometimes wondered if Villa was a Christian at all. He had never seen Villa in a church before. Yet he certainly was not Jewish or Islamic. Personally, Saúl thought Villa too foul-tempered to believe in any gods. He was, however, still astonished that someone like Silva, who seemed perfectly amiable and normal, would find Villa’s style intriguing rather than disturbing. When Saúl blurted out, “But do you not find his style too unorthodox?” Silva simply smiled, “Of course I find his style unique. But rather than condemning him for his divergence from tradition, I would rather embrace his ingenuity. After all, we are all different, are we not? It is something we shall cherish, not revile.”

 

“I am glad you appreciate him so,” said Saúl, “he must be rather grateful. It is nice to see Villa act nice to someone for a change.”

 

“But your cousin is so very gracious!” cried Silva in surprise, “When he called upon me to drop off his paintings, we had a truly stimulating conversation. I find his demeanour pleasant, his manners impeccable, and his mind most sharp.” 

 

“Pleasant?” Saúl almost choked. A pleasant Villa was almost as unfathomable as a poor de Pérez or an obtuse de Simeone. Nonetheless, Saúl could not bring himself to be the bearer of truth at the sincere smile on Silva’s face. So he settled for nodding reluctantly, “I am sure he is. Well, it has been a pleasure talking to you. I must take my leave now.”

 

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance too!” chirped Silva, “If you ever have some time to spare, please do not hesitate to call on our humble shop. In addition to paintings and sculptures, we have some rare to find books too, if you are interested.”

 

Saúl cleared his throat and mumbled, “That is very generous of you. But I’m afraid that is wasted on me. I am not a very good reader you see. I only learned when I was a child back home and I never have much chance to read since I started working for the Count.”

 

“Oh,” Silva’s smile faltered a little but he managed to perk back up immediately, “That shall not be a problem at all! I have time to spare and I can teach you to read. You shall pick it up in no time.”

 

“You will?” asked Saúl sceptically.

 

“Of course,” said Silva enthusiastically, “I have meant to read some of those books myself. It’s just I have really enjoyed our conversation. I never get the chance to talk to anyone about Vil, I mean art. I would be more than delighted to talk with you some more.”

 

Saúl smiled politely and shook Silva’s hand. When he left the shop, he wondered why Villa, who was usually proud and foul-tempered, was so partial to Silva; for he had never seen friendship between two people less alike. Maybe it was Silva’s heritage. Villa’s own mother, a beautiful gentle lady who passed away when Villa was a young child, was half Moorish. Perhaps Silva’s resemblance to his mother made Villa particularly fond of the young art dealer. But of course, it was none of Saúl’s business who Villa befriended. Shrugging, Saúl wondered for a moment what he shall do next to pass the day. He reasoned that since he had the subject of one of his relatives just came up, he might as well visit the rest of them. Having made up his mind, Saúl set off to visit his family.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Saúl’s family lived on the other end of the town. It was not the most penurious area, but it was certainly not some place any gentleman with reasonable means would set foot in. Saúl’s father was a foot soldier in the former King’s army who fought alongside some of the bravest souls in the Kingdom like Gabriel Fernández during the siege of Sevilla some five and twenty years ago. After he was incapacitated in a battle, however, the family had suffered great misfortune. Saúl’s mother had been forced to work as a seamstress to support the family. Now with the children all grown up, however, the burden on her shoulder had been alleviated significantly. When Saúl got home, he found her mother watering the plants while humming happily to herself.

 

“Mama,” cried Saúl as he went to hug her, “it’s me!”

 

“Oh my goodness,” Señora Ñíguez jumped a little but her look of surprise was soon replaced with a big smile when she saw her youngest child, “you made me jump. It is such a delight to see you though, my dear child. Come, let me look at you!” she wiped her hands on her apron to hold Saúl’s face, “Oh, you do look dashing!”

 

“Thanks, mama,” laughed Saúl, “I would say you are a little biased but still.”

 

“Oh, who is to say a mother cannot to be partial to her own child,” smiled Señora Ñíguez fondly, “I am so glad you are home. How is the Count? Have you been treated fairly?”

 

“The count is fine. He is very generous as usual and I am very happy there,” said Saúl, not entirely truthfully but close enough. The truth was, aside from his apprehension towards Count de Pérez, Saúl was never truly happy in a position of servitude either. He often times found himself too proud and stubborn to be satisfied with his situation. He had always had this dream that he was meant to be someone of greater importance, someone more intelligent, “I do not see the Count often, being a mere stable boy. But I still benefit from his kindness.” 

 

“I am so relieved to hear that. Praise the Lord for your fortune,” smiled Señora Ñíguez as she crossed herself, “We have not seen you in a while and we have truly missed you, especially Catalina. Speaking of Catalina, have you heard her news?”

 

“What news?”

 

“Well, she is actually going to…” But Señora Ñíguez’s words were interrupted by the appearance of the very person they were talking about, Catalina, Saúl’s baby sister.

 

“What a great surprise! Good day, my favourite brother!” beamed Catalina when she saw Saúl and she flung herself at Saúl to hug him.

 

“Good day Cat,” laughed Saúl as he picked Catalina up and swirled her around, “you have grown so much!”

 

Catalina laughed, her eyes twinkling, “I better have. You have to get used to me not being the little girl trailing after you anymore. I am a proper woman now.”

 

Saúl could not help but smile back. Catalina was the youngest and the only girl in the family and everyone’s favourite. At the age of 16, she had blossomed into a real beauty with big bright blue eyes, straight nose, rosy cheeks, radiant smile, flowy sleek raven black hair, and slender figure. It was her vivacious and kind disposition, however, that made her so very much liked by everyone who knew her. Saúl had been particularly close to Catalina due to their similar ages and he could not believe his baby cousin had grown into such a fine woman.

 

“I dare say you are a truly fine woman now,” said Saúl, smiling at Catalina, “Has anyone asked for your hand yet?”

 

“Now, now,” interjected Señora Ñíguez, who just came out of the kitchen with a tray of food and drinks, “Do not be so hasty to marry her off.”

 

“Why not?” asked Saúl a little perplexed, “I thought that was Cat’s big news. Whoever gets to marry her shall be the luckiest man in the world.”

 

“Because,” breathed Catalina in excitement, “I will see you very soon brother. I am going to be a lady’s maid in the Count de Pérez household!” With that, she actually did a little victory hop.

 

Saúl on the other hand, was far from pleased, “What? Why?”

 

“Saúl, this is very good for Catalina’s prospect,” said Señora Ñíguez placatingly, “She will be the lady’s maid of Count de Pérez’s daughter, the great Lady de Pérez, until she is married. It shall not be a permanent position yet Catalina will be in the company of great accomplished ladies. It will broaden her horizon and make her much more suitable to be a gentleman’s wife. Besides, she will get to spend more time with you and make good money on that since the Count, god bless him, is most generous indeed.”

 

“But I don’t trust him!” cried Saúl but his mother shushed him quiet.

 

“Do not speak ill of the Count,” reproached Señora Ñíguez, “Did you not just say yourself that the Count is generous and kind. In any case, he is a great gentleman and we are in no position to pass judgement on him.”

 

“Please Saúl,” pleaded Catalina, “I really want this. I want to see how the great ladies conduct themselves. I want to learn more about their world. Do not trouble yourself over me. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Please.”

 

Saúl looked at Catalina’s pleading eyes and felt his resolve melt away. He could never say no to her. Fortunately, rescue came in the form of David Villa’s grumpy face and Saúl had never been more pleased to see him. Grabbing Villa’s arm, Saúl pulled him aside.

 

“Catalina is going to work in the house of Count de Pérez” hissed Saúl, “Did you know about this?”

 

Villa sighed and nodded, “I did not wish for this but I could not prevail on her nor your mother.”   
  


“But how could you let this happen?” Saúl asked incredulously, “With papa in bed, you are practically the head of the family. Surely you could have prevented this!”

 

“Excuse me,” retorted Villa angrily, “Do you think I have not tried? I was very upset when she told me this and told her flat outright that I think that working for a twisted power-hungry old wart like the Count is a very poor choice indeed. But did she listen to me? No, she just laughed and told me that I need not be so cynical and angry all the time. Heaven forbid! In any case, I have done my best to dissuade my cousin but she is very adamant about this. I am not her brother after all.”

 

Saúl sighed and plunked down on the chair, “I am not sure about this. It is one thing for me to be in servitude to this man, quite another for some beautiful young girl like Catalina.”

 

“You truly think she shall not be safe?” asked Villa, raising his voice, “I mean, I dislike the Count on principle; for most of those noblemen are conniving pigs. But you know him and if you think there is real danger…”

 

“I know not what to tell you,” said Saúl, “The count has not done anything dishonourable, as far as I know. Yet my instinct is telling me to stay alert. Who am I to trust?”

 

“Well, maybe you are just overcautious,” sighed Villa, “If nothing has happened the whole time you have been in his household, I doubt the Count shall seize the opportunity the moment Catalina presents herself. Besides, she shan't be working for the Count. She will be alongside Lady de Pérez and I have heard rumours that the Count is negotiating terms of her betrothal to the Count of Tarragona. Catalina may not be in the Count’s household for long at all. For us to ask her to give up her prospect based on your instinct and my animosity towards the nobility alone is probably too cruel.”

 

Saúl nodded, “I hope you are right.” and hoping to take his mind off Catalina, he changed the subject, “By the way, I spoke to Señor Silva this afternoon.”

 

“You did?” cried Villa in delight, most uncharacteristically, “He is a most delightful young man, is he not? How is he doing? What have you talked about?”

 

“Yes, he is perfectly charming and delightful,” laughed Saúl knowingly, “And he seemed very concerned about your welfare. I dare say he was particularly nice to me because of you.”

 

“Nonsense,” blushed Villa slightly, a scene so rare that Saúl had to fight hard to contain his smirk, “David is nice and warm towards everyone.”

 

“Maybe,” smiled Saúl mischievously, “I have really gotten to quite like him. Maybe I will take up his offer to teach me how to read so I can spend more time with him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I shall go and pay him another visit. Good day cousin!” With that, Saúl left quickly and closed the door on Villa’s face, shutting his shouting out.


	7. Period 2 - 1273 AD

The conversation with his family was not exactly what Saúl had envisioned when he went to visit them. Pondering how he could get his precious Catalina out of this, Saúl spent the next hour weighing his different options. He could, of course, make up some lies that Catalina was not a suitable maid to Lady de Pérez. But since he did not wish to hurt his sister’s reputation either, he decided that was best left as a last resort. Lady de Pérez’s betrothal and marriage would, of course, put an end to this but that was hardly in Saúl’s control. In the end, he settled on the only option. He must find Catalina a suitable husband, one good enough to render her experience in the Count’s household unnecessary.

 

The only problem with this was, given his occupation, Saúl hardly knew any eligible gentleman to meet the criteria. Most of his acquaintances were either servants very much like himself or merchants in the market. Not wishing to give up so easily, Saúl finally settled on his old friend Jorge, who was a young farmer with a sizeable piece of land. Even though Jorge was no gentleman, he was a nice-looking young man who could read and write perfectly well and his manners impeccably genteel. Jorge had lost his parents at a rather young age and was placed under the care of his uncle, one of Saúl’s father’s acquaintances from his regimen who continued his career in the battlefield. As a result, Jorge practically grew up with Saúl’s family. He was of great character and very reasonable prospect. Even someone as hard to please as Villa had spoken very highly of him. Happy with his solution, Saúl wasted no time in going to visit Jorge.

 

Jorge it turned out, was busy working in his farm. He was more than pleased to see Saúl, however, and gave up his work at once to greet his friend.

 

“What a pleasant surprise!” cried Jorge in delight, “I do not expect to see you in my humble abode but do come in my dear friend. How are you? What brings you here?”

 

“I am very well, thank you, my friend,” smiled Saúl, genuinely pleased to see his friend, “I hope the crops are doing well this year.”

 

“Splendidly,” replied Jorge enthusiastically, “The weather could not have been more favourable, thanks to our kind almighty Lord. I do believe I am going to make a small fortune this year, which may even allow me to buy more land.”   
  


“That is truly wonderful.” Saúl was even more convinced of his conception than ever, “Now my friend, since you have secured yourself a nice position in society, do you not think that it is time for you to start a family with someone you love.”

 

Jorge looked at Saúl and blushed slightly. 

 

“Please my friend,” cooed Saúl encouragingly, “it is nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

“Well, I, er, have, er,” spluttered Jorge, “that thought did cross my mind.”

 

“And?”

 

“I, er, I, hmm. Hey,” said Jorge a little defensively at Saúl’s knowing smirk, “what do you know about starting a family anyway! You are younger than me!”

 

“Yet so much wiser,” Saúl’s simply could not hide his smug smile any longer, “In fact, I have found you the perfect wife.”

 

Jorge’s face paled and he said in a low voice, “you have?”

 

“Of course,” Saúl wrapped his arm around Jorge’s slightly shorter yet broader frame. He quite frankly could not fathom why Jorge was not pleased. He would have if the situation was reversed. Did Jorge not trust his judgement of fine women? “Believe me, my dear friend, you shall not wish for a better wife than my baby sister Catalina. Have you seen her recently? She has grown into a truly handsome young lady. Indeed, I dare say she is the most handsome girl I have ever had the fortune to behold. But that is not all. In addition to her beauty, she is a most sensible girl with the sweetest disposition and a great sense of propriety and virtue. I would not be parted with her to anyone less worthy but I have known you since childhood and I believe you truly deserve her. So my dear friend, what says you? Will I have the honour of addressing you as my brother one day?”

 

Jorge said nothing for a long time. Saúl’s smile faded from his face and he retrieved his arm from Jorge. Jorge’s silence was highly inexplicable to him. Saúl had offered him a great future wife and a chance for them to be proper family at last. 

 

“My dear friend,” said Jorge after a long silence and his tone could not be more sincere, “I deem it as the highest honour to be the future husband of Señorita Catalina and part of your family, which I have long taken as my own. I hold the highest regard for your sister but my heart has long been engaged elsewhere. I am truly sorry to have withheld my affection for someone else from you to have caused you and your sister pain. Believe me, it is indeed unconsciously done and never by desire nor design.”

 

Saúl was so dumbfounded that it took him a while to find his voice again, “I, of course, understand the nature of your discretion my dear friend. I have no prior knowledge of your understanding with someone else. Otherwise, I would not have asked. Good thing I was just asking for my sister, not on her behalf, so you may acquit yourself of having caused her any pain. Well, in any case, let us forget about what we have just discussed and pretend it never happened.”

 

Jorge let out a deep sigh of relief, “That is a relief. The last thing I want is to hurt you or Catalina in any way. I am very glad and grateful that you understand. With her many good qualities, I am certain Catalina shall find herself a most suitable husband.”

 

This prompted Saúl to confess his main motive behind the offer to Jorge, who listened intently until Saúl finished retelling earlier events of the day before saying, “I appreciate your concern my friend but I am afraid it is without proof. Don’t mistake me. I trust your judgement fully. Yet there is no evidence to your suspicions. The Count is widely known to be manipulative, power-hungry and cunning, but never crude nor…” he hesitated before continuing, “lecherous. He has no mistress nor any illegitimate children that I know of. Surely that means Catalina is safe in that regard.”

 

Saúl thought about it for a second. What Jorge said was true, at least as far as he knew. Maybe he was reading too much into the situation and overly protective of Catalina. Besides, he shall be able to look out for Catalina once she was properly settled in the Count’s household and he would make sure no harm would ever come to her. Slightly more at ease with the current situation, Saúl regained enough of his good humour to start teasing his friend, “I am sure you are right. Now, tell me more about this mysterious lady you are secretly in love with. Do I know her? Is she handsome? She ought to be. Is she virtuous? She must be. Otherwise, she would never have procured your good opinion. So what is she like? Do tell!”

 

Jorge, though pleased with Saúl’s returned spirit, was highly embarrassed by his friend’s teasing questions. He turned a dark shade of red and stammered, “I, er, well, you see, er…”

 

Saúl laughed and put his arm around his friend’s shoulder again, “Don’t be bashful, my dear friend! You know how discreet I am. Anything you confide in me shall go no further. So please, put a friend out of his misery. I am dying of curiosity.”

 

Jorge looked at Saúl’s carefree face and chose his words very carefully, “Very well. If you must know, the object of my affection is so very sensible, intelligent, brave, and loyal. I have been in love since we first met. And yes, you two are indeed well acquainted with each other. My feelings, however, are unknown to anyone but myself because it is forbidden.”

 

Saúl found Jorge’s description of his love most peculiar. He had, of course, met ladies with such qualities, his mother being an excellent example. Yet those qualities were things people recognised and appreciated in a lady but seldom spoke of, especially when it concerned matters of matrimony because they were simply too unladylike. His attention, however, was drawn to the last part of his friend’s confidence, “You have yet to tell her? Why? Why do you torment yourself with such secrecy and unrequited love? How can your love for her, one so pure and strong, be forbidden?”

 

“My dear friend,” said Jorge with a determined look on his face, “I have made up my mind on that matter a long time ago. Too many obstacles stand in our way and I have long resigned myself to accept the reality. Now I am quite content with keeping my feelings to myself while doing everything I can to ensure the happiness of the other party.” Foreseeing what Saúl was going to say, Jorge forestalled him in earnest, “Please my friend. I understand your concern for my situation and I am most obliged. But let us speak no more of this subject as it pains me so to dwell on it. Let us, like you have proposed, forget everything that has happened and move on.”

 

Saúl nodded reluctantly at his friend’s determination and bid him farewell. He was, however, secretly resolved to finding out who his friend’s secret love was. He did briefly wonder if it was someone in the household of the Count. Saúl did not know many other young women outside of it after all. Maybe it was Beatriz, a lady’s maid to Lady de Pérez, a good friend of Saúl’s and a very beautiful young girl. She had met Jorge on several occasions and had, unless Saúl was very much mistaken, harboured a tender feeling towards Jorge. But Jorge’s talk of forbidden love really puzzled Saúl. The only explanation he could think of was that of the social barrier. It would indeed be impossible for Jorge to even dream of the hand of a lady. Whoever it was though, Saúl vowed that he would do everything within his power to bring them together. After all, Jorge deserved the best and Saúl wanted nothing more than to see his friend happy.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next couple weeks passed without incident. Catalina had finally packed up her things and joined the other maids in the household of Lady de Pérez. Saúl paid her a couple visits and was pleased to see her happily settled there. Saúl did feel somewhat guilty that he did not get to spend more time with Catalina to ensure her welfare in this new environment. But both of them were extremely occupied at the moment. Count de Pérez normally visited his estate in Segovia twice a year to oversee his affairs there. This year, however, he had decided to take Lady de Pérez there before her betrothal to spend some time there. As the Count’s only child, Lady de Pérez was expected to inherit and manage the estate before it was passed to her children. The Count and the Lady planned to leave town in a fortnight and were expected to spend several months in Segovia. The entire household naturally, were thrown into a frenzy of preparation work. Saúl spent most of his time in the stable with the horses, making sure they would be fit for the journey. Even Catalina, who had joined the house barely a week ago, was tasked with numerous jobs. She seemed to relish her involvement though and devoted herself wholeheartedly to Lady de Pérez.

 

Saúl next saw Catalina a couple days before the Count and Lady’s departure. Saúl was grooming the horses in the stable when Catalina burst in.

 

“Good gracious Cat,” cried Saúl in surprise and nearly dropped the brush. The horse he was attending to neighed reproachfully but Catalina ignored them both. 

 

“I am going with Milady to Segovia!” announced Catalina proudly, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

 

“What?” Saúl did drop the brush this time and the horse had to skip a few steps to avoid being hit, “What do you mean you are going? But you have just joined Milady’s household. Surely they cannot take you.”

 

“But they are!” Catalina’s smile grew even bigger. “I think Milady has taken quite a liking to me! She prefers my company to many others more senior to me. I read to her in her spare time. I am so indebted to cousin David for teaching me to read when I was a child. Milady said that she found my voice very comforting, which is exactly what she needs now. She is very distressed about her upcoming betrothal you see. Just today, she told me that she could not possibly part with me, even for just several months. Oh, how fortunate I am to have gained her favour so! Are you not happy for me, my dear brother?”

 

Saúl knew not how to express his concern in front of Catalina who was obviously overcome with joy. He feared not about Lady de Pérez; she was an agreeable young lady and was clearly partial to Catalina. Saúl was, however, uncomfortable with the idea of Catalina leaving for Segovia while he stayed in Toledo. She would have no one to protect her if anything were to happen. What was more, Catalina had a most gentle nature and had lived such a sheltered life that she could not recognise danger until it was about to do her harm. But there was nothing to be done. Lady de Pérez clearly wanted Catalina to go with her and Saúl could not go to Segovia himself without defying the Count. So he had to settle to telling Catalina, again and again, to be careful. He doubted Catalina heard half of what he was saying though.

 

“Do not trouble yourself over me, dear brother! I am in good hands and Milady shall take care of me. And, besides, I shall be back in no time.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once the Count and the Lady had left town, life at the household of the Count became almost unbearably dull for Saúl. Most of the horses had been taken to Segovia so there was little left for Saúl to do. Some of the servants, including the Count’s butler Pepe, left with the Count as well. Saúl was delighted about this since he never cared for Pepe, who was the servant closest to the Count. Not deemed handsome enough to be a footman, Pepe managed to become the Count’s butler and over the years had gained the Count’s ultimate trust. What made him so unpopular among the servants, however, was his attitude towards them; for he saw himself as someone superior, and his sometimes rather cruel nature. He had never hesitated to report a servant for their smallest digressions and was responsible for the dismissal of them. With Pepe gone, Saúl felt he could breathe much more easily than before.

 

Armed with his new-found time and freedom, Saúl took up on Silva’s offer and was spending more time with him in the backroom of his shop to learn to read and write. Silva was a decidedly knowledgeable and patient teacher. Moreover, his shop was filled with rare manuscripts from different times, some quite ancient.

 

“I quite enjoy translating them,” said Silva, “It is such a pity that some of our ancestors’ work gets lost during turbulent times. I have managed to collect some from various sources. Nothing of great importance unfortunately, mostly journals and writings of scribes. But some are quite interesting to read, as it tells us the lives of those in ancient times.”

 

Saúl nodded and flicked through the scattered documents. Some of them were religious texts from ancient Egypt, others tales of myths from the Roman empire. None of those really intrigued Saúl; for he found them hard to relate to. When he came across what looked like a personal journal, however, he stopped.

 

The papyrus scrolls were rather ragged-looking, having gone through all these years. It was written in ancient Greek by someone named Antonius, or at least Saúl thought that was the name of the author. What drew his attention was the scattered pictures in the journal and all of them seemed to be a rather personal nature, which Saúl found to be much more interesting than the lives of some unknown gods. So he approached Silva and asked about it.

 

“Do you know what this one is about?”

 

“Oh!” cried Silva enthusiastically, “I remember this one. It was actually from my mother’s family. They are originally from Egypt you see. I read it when I was a child. It was sort of my introductory textbook into Greek. The author, Antonius, was a most delightful one and I enjoyed his writing immensely. Unfortunately, the ending was rather a tragedy but I shall not spoil it for you. Here, I have it translated into Spanish. It will make an interesting read.”


	8. Period 2 - 1273 AD

Saúl spent the next couple months slowly going through the book, with frequent stops to Silva’s shop for help. He thoroughly enjoyed it though. Silva was right. The writer, Antonius, sounded like a very cheerful and amiable person. He described things in his life in vivid details, which afforded Saúl a chance to look into the life in ancient Alexandria. What impressed him more though, was the determination and dedication Antonius had for his beliefs and his love.

 

“He really loved him!” said Saúl to Jorge on one of his visits, “He didn’t spell it out but I can read between lines. It broke his heart that he had to leave.”

 

“Who really loves whom?” asked Jorge slightly confused.

 

“Antonius!” cried Saúl, “He was in love with Cholius, his mentor, the Director of the Serapeum. Listen to this: ‘Never have I dreamed that I would be under the guidance and tutelage of someone with such superior knowledge of the world and the cosmos. How fortunate I am to be singled out as his favourite disciple! And how patient and kind he is with me, my dear dear Cholius! He has opened up my mind so that I felt like a completely new person. Oh dear sweet Isis, please never separate us! Every second spent in his chamber is worth more than ten mundane years without him!’ If this isn't true love, I know not what is!”

 

Jorge stopped to look at Saúl’s face, which was lit with longing. He thought for a moment and chose his next word carefully, “I dare say it is. So you do not disapprove of Antonius’ love for Cholius?”

 

“Disapprove?” said Saúl incredulously, “Of course not! How can I disapprove such pure deep affection? I admire them! I only wish I would one day be lucky enough to have such strong feelings for someone!”

 

“Ah, so you do not feel so for anyone at the moment?” The expression on Jorge’s face was most peculiar. He was torn between hope and disappointment.

 

Saúl sighed, “Alas, no. I mean, I love my family very much and I love you as a friend and true brother! And I may have entertained some fleeting attractions for a pretty maid or two. But my heart has yet to yearn for someone like this. Oh my dear friend, how fortunate you are to have someone you love. Even an unrequited love is better than nothing at all!”

 

“Pray you never have to experience it yourself,” muttered Jorge.

 

“What?” asked Saúl curiously.

 

“Nothing,” said Jorge hastily, “nothing at all my friend. I am just surprised that you do not find their love for each other forbidden.”

 

“Why in the world would I?” asked Saúl, utterly perplexed.

 

“Because,” said Jorge a little exasperated; for he was not certain if Saúl was trying to be a simpleton on purpose, “both of them were men. It is forbidden by our Lord, is it not?”

 

“So what if they were?” said Saúl, sounding very serious, “I am sure our Lord shall forgive them for having such deep affections for each other, even though they were of the same sex. Has he not taught us to be tolerant and loving towards one another?”

 

Jorge did not say anything. He seemed to be deep in thought. Saúl, however, went on without noticing, “What is more, Antonius really believed in his and Cholius’ theories about the earth and the cosmos. He was convinced they were right, even though it sounded so unlikely. The earth moving around the sun instead of being the centre of the cosmos! Can you believe it?”

 

“They did not believe the earth is the centre of the universe?” asked Jorge in astonishment, “But how can it be? Everybody knows that the earth is at the centre of the universe and everything revolves around it. I thought it was common knowledge since the beginning of the time.”

 

“I thought so but never mind that,” Saúl said a little impatiently, “The point is, Antonius knew their theories may not be well received but he still stood by them, just like he did for his love for Cholius. Is this not admirable? No matter how others may oppose you, you remain true to your heart.”

 

“Hmm, I do applaud his spirit. I will do the same if I were in his situation,” Jorge still sounded a little sceptical, “Yet I simply cannot fathom his theories. Did he explain why he believed it in?”

 

“It’s a journal, not an academic document. Besides, I have not finished it yet.”

 

“Well, do tell me how it ends. I am curious to know.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

As Saúl was making steady progress through the book, the household of Count de Pérez was getting busy again to prepare the house for the Count and Lady de Pérez’s return. Saúl was extremely excited. He had not seen Catalina for several months and he could not wait to hear what her life was like in Segovia. Even though it was quite unlikely, Saúl was hoping some gentleman from Segovia might have noticed Catalina and asked for her hand.

 

The day that the Count and the lady returned was a bright sunny one. The entire household waited with baited breaths for hours until the carriages finally appeared. Saúl watched eagerly from the stable as servants and maids unloaded box after box of the Count’s and Lady’s luggage into the house. When everyone had cleared out of the carriages, however, Saúl realised that Catalina was not there. Slightly panicked, he grabbed hold of Beatriz and asked, “Good day Beatriz, I hope you had a good time in Segovia. Forgive me for asking, but have you seen Catalina?”

 

Beatriz looked at Saúl with a sad expression on her face and Saúl’s heart sank. “Is she ill? Has she upset the Lady in some way? Is she hurt? Did she have an accident? Please tell me, Bea!”

 

“I am very sorry, Saúl is it not?” The voice of Lady de Pérez made Saúl jump and turn on the spot. Beatriz looked petrified. Lady de Pérez gave her a look so she curtsied and left without a word. Saúl was getting more and more apprehensive with each passing second. What could have possibly happened that would warrant Lady de Pérez to speak directly to him?

 

“I am afraid,” continued Lady de Pérez in a mournful tone, “I have truly dreadful news for you. Your sister Catalina has taken her life while she was in Segovia.”

 

Saúl felt his blood rush to his head and the earth moving beneath him. He could not comprehend what Lady de Pérez was saying. It could not be. How could his dearest sweetest Catalina kill herself? The next thing he knew, he was on the ground and Beatriz was next to him, shaking him awake. Lady de Pérez was summoning the servants for help. Saúl looked at Beatriz beseechingly, hoping her to contradict what the Lady had said. Beatriz closed her eyes, her face riddled with pain.

 

“My deepest apologies my friend,” whispered Beatriz, “I wish I could bring you happier tidings but I can’t.”

 

Saúl grabbed Beatriz’s hand convulsively. She did not betray any sign of pain despite Saúl’s firm grip. Her face instead was full of sorrow.

 

“How did it happen?” choked Saúl, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. Beatriz opened her mouth but Lady de Pérez’s arrival interrupted her, “Please doctor, attend to this young man immediately. He has suffered a great shock. Beatriz, prepare the room close to mine for Saúl. Sara, fetch some wet towels and hot water.”

 

Saúl had the funniest inkling that Lady de Pérez might be concealing something from him. He looked at Beatriz, who curtseyed silently and left. Before she disappeared from view though, she looked back at Saúl and gave him a highly meaningful look. Satisfied that he would at least learn the truth, Saúl tolerated the fuss around him so he could be left alone to wallow in his own despair. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later that night, Saúl found himself wide awake in the most comfortable room he had ever stayed in. With his mind so preoccupied and his heart so desolate, he took no notice of his worldly surroundings. A soft knock on the door, however, caught his attention.

 

Saúl was not entirely surprised to find Beatriz when he opened the door. She made a shushing noise and slid noiselessly into the room. Once inside, she broke down and proceeded to hug him tightly. Saúl felt hot tears falling onto his shoulder and he could hardly contain himself.

 

“Please Bea, I beseech you. Tell me the truth, all the particulars! I need to know what sort of misery and despair would let my sister, someone always so jovial and merry, choose to end her life!”

 

“It was a truly dreadful and abhorrent occurrence,” said Beatriz, still crying silently, “She came back to the room we shared one night and I could discern something was terribly wrong. Catalina was beside herself and would not cease crying. I tried to comfort her but to no avail; for she was utterly distraught. When she finally composed herself enough to speak, she confided in me, most reluctantly, that her virtue was lost and she deemed herself and her life worthless.”

 

“What do you mean by her virtue was lost?” exclaimed Saúl in astonishment, “How could she have lost her virtue? Unless…” Saúl gasped and Beatriz nodded, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks. Saúl stood up abruptly and started pacing the room incessantly. He felt like he might explode with rage at the truth. Beatriz watched him with an almost fearful expression on her face, “Oh Saúl, have I done the right thing by telling you? Would it not be better that you know not the unfortunate truth?”

 

“No!” said Saúl forcefully. He had finally stopped pacing yet he was still enraged. “You have done well by revealing the truth to me, Beatriz. Now I shall avenge myself and my sister on the sordid bastard who dared to defile my sister. So tell me, who is he?”

 

“No, no, no!” Beatriz shook her head vigorously and grabbed Saúl’s hands earnestly. “You shall think of no such thing! You cannot triumph against such a powerful man like…” she gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth. But it was too late; Saúl had already deduced who the man was. “It was Count de Pérez, was it not? I ought to have known! I never trusted that bastard yet I remained silent. I ought to have prevented this!”

 

“No, Saúl! It was not like that, not entirely. The Count did not just want to violate your sister. Catalina told me that the Count wanted to take her as his mistress. She, of course, refused his offer and…”

 

“And he forced himself upon her?” spat out Saúl contemptuously, “Such a despicable man! This changes nothing! I shall avenge myself even if this is the last thing I do!”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Saúl excused himself from the Count’s household for the next several days. Lady de Pérez granted his wish immediately, out of guilt or compassion he neither knew nor care. The only thing that occupied his thoughts was to requite the sufferings inflicted upon himself and his sister. When the all-consuming rage had subsided enough for him to see reason, however, Saúl realised most painfully that his mission would likely fail and end in his own demise.

 

Saúl had always been a brave young man, at least he had always considered himself as such. It did not mean that he was immune to fear, however. At the tender age of 18, Saúl had not encountered any real sufferings until now and he dreaded death as much as anyone, despite his desire to avenge his sister. He had no one to confide in this dilemma; for he wished not to burden his parents nor any of his relatives with the woeful tiding. In the meantime, Saúl had to resort to other means to preoccupy his mind and he found himself spending more time reading Antonius’ journal, which had progressed slowly from a lighthearted diary to heartbreaking record of their tragic end. 

 

_ “I know this shall be the end of our time in this lifetime; for I dare not dream that my dearest Cholius may survive this tragic ordeal. I regret not our decisions; as we are sacrificing ourselves for our beliefs and there is no greater honour. Oh, but to think that I shall never behold his face again, hear his wise words again, feel his tender touch again! We have had so little time together. Yet I shall not despair; for death is just the beginning of another journey, in the realm of the Almighty Osiris. We shall resurrect and may our love guides us to find each other in our next lifetime!” _

 

Saúl set down the book and closed his eyes. In his mind, he was imagining the heartbreaking moment of departure between Antonius and Cholius, both wonderful great men with a shared belief so powerful that they were willing to sacrifice their love and lives. Antonius’ conviction of their afterlife and resurrection filled Saúl with new-found courage. Somehow he was certain that Antonius was right. Death was not the end of a journey, merely the beginning of another one; and he shall greet it with open arms.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Saúl knew perfectly well that he could not accomplish this task himself, being a low stable boy. Neither did he know any person powerful enough to do this on his behalf. His only option then was either to kill the Count himself or attain the advice from someone with better connections. Saúl was not a violent man and he deemed murder as one of the greatest sins. Yet he was not above committing such crime for his most beloved sister. Still, Saúl had decided to use that as a last resort. Instead, he set off to find the one person he knew with the most connections, Villa.

 

Saúl was not surprised to see Jorge in his family abode. What did amaze him was the presence of Silva. In any other circumstances, Saúl would prefer not to divulge particulars of such nature to a strange. Today, however, he was too incenses and devastated to take heed of his own cautions. Wasting no time at all, he burst out in angry tears.

 

Jorge jumped to his feet and was by Saúl’s side at once. When he enfolded Saúl in his arms, Saúl let out a heart-wrenching cry like a wounded animal and buried his head in Jorge’s broad chest. Villa and Silva exchanged astonished looks before joining Jorge in comforting Saúl.

 

“What is the matter my dear friend?” cried Jorge in earnest concern, “Please tell me what is wrong! You alarm me!”

 

Saúl finally composed himself enough to speak, “A most distressing tragedy has happened. It’s about, about… about Catalina!” He then proceeded to tell them everything about Catalina.

 

“What?” Villa slammed both of his fists on the wooden table, breaking it in half. Yet he seemed not to notice, “that good-for-nothing bastard has, has… No! I can’t bel… It’s not possible!”

 

“It was my fault!” said Jorge the moment Saúl finished the tragic story, “I ought to have agreed to your offer when you came to me. That way, Catalina would never have to be employed by Lady de Pérez.”

 

“Of course not my friend!” said Saúl sincerely, “You have done nothing wrong apart from staying true to your heart. I could not possibly ask you to abandon your true love to wed Catalina. It wouldn’t be fair for any of you.”

 

“I have no hope of ever securing the hand of my true love,” said Jorge dejectedly, “I have forgone that hope long ago. I should have accepted the reality and help you with Catalina.”

 

“Don’t be absurd Jorge,” said Saúl in a firm tone, “It is surely not your fault. If anything, we are to blame. We’re her family after all and we ought to protect and tend her. We have failed her!”

 

“Saúl is right,” said Villa, his eyes glinting with rage, “It is not your fault Jorge. It is that disgusting, degrading, revolting, foul snakes de Pérez’s fault! The next time I see him, I shall make him feel the most excruciating pain and...”

 

“Yes, we must avenge Catalina!” said Saúl in an equally savage manner. 

 

Jorge tightened his grip on Saúl’s hand. “I know you too well to try to dissuade you, my friend. But are you quite sure about the possible consequences of your actions?”

 

“Of course I am!” said Saúl firmly, “I have thought it through and have made up my mind. I know the danger associated with this almost impossible task and I may have to pay with my life. But if Antonius and Cholius could defy the ruling power for their beliefs, so would I.”

 

Jorge looked deep into Saúl’s unwavering eyes and sighed, “Very well then. I shall do anything I can to help.”

 

“I truly appreciate your bravery and true friendship. But I cannot accept your kindness. Catalina is my sister and David’s cousin. We should be the ones avenging our family. Do you not agree, David?”

 

“Without doubt!” said Villa firmly, “I am with you cousin.”

 

When Jorge betrayed every sign of protest, Saúl stopped him, “I am serious my friend. Besides, we need someone to look after our family in case we do not return. I presume I can trust you with that?”

 

Jorge sighed again and said, “Naturally my friend. Your family is as good as mine and I swear I shall never let any harm come to them.”

 

Saúl smiled with satisfaction and turned to Villa, “Now David, are you acquainted with anyone who might be of some help?”

 

“You have to let me think,” said Villa, “we are not well-connected after all. Most of my acquaintances are poor starving artists. I do know a few of your father’s old acquaintances from the army but I doubt it will be of any real help though. It matters not though; for I shall kill that bastard with my own bare hands…”

 

“Wait,” said Silva suddenly, “you are acquainted with Colonel Gabriel Fernández, are you not? Did he not fight along Saúl’s father?”

 

“Yes, he did indeed!” said Saúl excitedly, “he was a great friend of my father’s and practically owed his life to my father. I am not particularly close to him though, having been born after my father’s retirement. How did you…”

 

“I once called upon his help in selling my paintings as a last resort and he could not have been more gracious,” replied Villa, “Not only did he buy my painting, but he also inquired after the family, particularly your father. Once he learned of our situation, he even went so far as to blame himself for not offering enough help to your father.”

 

“That was extremely obliging of him.” After what happened to Catalina, Saúl was surprised to find good-naturedness in people with power. 

 

“Indeed! He had paid us several visits afterwards but you were never home to receive him. He also found my paintings intriguing and expressed wishes to see more of them. So I have been spending time with him.”

 

Saúl contemplated the matter. A colonel was indeed the most connected and powerful person in their circle. Yet he doubted Gabriel could have any real influence to bring justice against someone as influential as Count de Pérez. To even suggest the idea to Gabriel would be extremely ungrateful and would surely end their friendship with the said Colonel. Sensing his doubts, Silva reassured him, “I know what you must be thinking. Do not fret, my friend, I am not suggesting that Colonel Gabriel shall be the one to fight Count de Pérez. But if my sources are correct, Colonel Gabriel has enjoyed a long and close friendship with Count de Simeone. If we could enlist his help to be granted an audience with the Count, who I have heard is a truly kind and just gentleman, we may stand a chance.”

 

“That is brilliant!” cried Villa excitedly and he went to hug Silva. Silva smiled back at him and blushed slightly at their close physical contact. Saúl had to admit, Silva was right and this was their best chance. He could only pray and hope Count de Simeone might be willing to help.


	9. Period 2 - 1273 AD

Saúl spent the next couple months slowly going through the book, with frequent stops to Silva’s shop for help. He thoroughly enjoyed it though. Silva was right. The writer, Antonius, sounded like a very cheerful and amiable person. He described things in his life in vivid details, which afforded Saúl a chance to look into the life in ancient Alexandria. What impressed him more though, was the determination and dedication Antonius had for his beliefs and his love.

 

“He really loved him!” said Saúl to Jorge on one of his visits, “He didn’t spell it out but I can read between lines. It broke his heart that he had to leave.”

 

“Who really loves whom?” asked Jorge slightly confused.

 

“Antonius!” cried Saúl, “He was in love with Cholius, his mentor, the Director of the Serapeum. Listen to this: ‘Never have I dreamed that I would be under the guidance and tutelage of someone with such superior knowledge of the world and the cosmos. How fortunate I am to be singled out as his favourite disciple! And how patient and kind he is with me, my dear dear Cholius! He has opened up my mind so that I felt like a completely new person. Oh dear sweet Isis, please never separate us! Every second spent in his chamber is worth more than ten mundane years without him!’ If this isn't true love, I know not what is!”

 

Jorge stopped to look at Saúl’s face, which was lit with longing. He thought for a moment and chose his next word carefully, “I dare say it is. So you do not disapprove of Antonius’ love for Cholius?”

 

“Disapprove?” said Saúl incredulously, “Of course not! How can I disapprove such pure deep affection? I admire them! I only wish I would one day be lucky enough to have such strong feelings for someone!”

 

“Ah, so you do not feel so for anyone at the moment?” The expression on Jorge’s face was most peculiar. He was torn between hope and disappointment.

 

Saúl sighed, “Alas, no. I mean, I love my family very much and I love you as a friend and true brother! And I may have entertained some fleeting attractions for a pretty maid or two. But my heart has yet to yearn for someone like this. Oh my dear friend, how fortunate you are to have someone you love. Even an unrequited love is better than nothing at all!”

 

“Pray you never have to experience it yourself,” muttered Jorge.

 

“What?” asked Saúl curiously.

 

“Nothing,” said Jorge hastily, “nothing at all my friend. I am just surprised that you do not find their love for each other forbidden.”

 

“Why in the world would I?” asked Saúl, utterly perplexed.

 

“Because,” said Jorge a little exasperated; for he was not certain if Saúl was trying to be a simpleton on purpose, “both of them were men. It is forbidden by our Lord, is it not?”

 

“So what if they were?” said Saúl, sounding very serious, “I am sure our Lord shall forgive them for having such deep affections for each other, even though they were of the same sex. Has he not taught us to be tolerant and loving towards one another?”

 

Jorge did not say anything. He seemed to be deep in thought. Saúl, however, went on without noticing, “What is more, Antonius really believed in his and Cholius’ theories about the earth and the cosmos. He was convinced they were right, even though it sounded so unlikely. The earth moving around the sun instead of being the centre of the cosmos! Can you believe it?”

 

“They did not believe the earth is the centre of the universe?” asked Jorge in astonishment, “But how can it be? Everybody knows that the earth is at the centre of the universe and everything revolves around it. I thought it was common knowledge since the beginning of the time.”

 

“I thought so but never mind that,” Saúl said a little impatiently, “The point is, Antonius knew their theories may not be well received but he still stood by them, just like he did for his love for Cholius. Is this not admirable? No matter how others may oppose you, you remain true to your heart.”

 

“Hmm, I do applaud his spirit. I will do the same if I were in his situation,” Jorge still sounded a little sceptical, “Yet I simply cannot fathom his theories. Did he explain why he believed it in?”

 

“It’s a journal, not an academic document. Besides, I have not finished it yet.”

 

“Well, do tell me how it ends. I am curious to know.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

As Saúl was making steady progress through the book, the household of Count de Pérez was getting busy again to prepare the house for the Count and Lady de Pérez’s return. Saúl was extremely excited. He had not seen Catalina for several months and he could not wait to hear what her life was like in Segovia. Even though it was quite unlikely, Saúl was hoping some gentleman from Segovia might have noticed Catalina and asked for her hand.

 

The day that the Count and the lady returned was a bright sunny one. The entire household waited with baited breaths for hours until the carriages finally appeared. Saúl watched eagerly from the stable as servants and maids unloaded box after box of the Count’s and Lady’s luggage into the house. When everyone had cleared out of the carriages, however, Saúl realised that Catalina was not there. Slightly panicked, he grabbed hold of Beatriz and asked, “Good day Beatriz, I hope you had a good time in Segovia. Forgive me for asking, but have you seen Catalina?”

 

Beatriz looked at Saúl with a sad expression on her face and Saúl’s heart sank. “Is she ill? Has she upset the Lady in some way? Is she hurt? Did she have an accident? Please tell me, Bea!”

 

“I am very sorry, Saúl is it not?” The voice of Lady de Pérez made Saúl jump and turn on the spot. Beatriz looked petrified. Lady de Pérez gave her a look so she curtsied and left without a word. Saúl was getting more and more apprehensive with each passing second. What could have possibly happened that would warrant Lady de Pérez to speak directly to him?

 

“I am afraid,” continued Lady de Pérez in a mournful tone, “I have truly dreadful news for you. Your sister Catalina has taken her life while she was in Segovia.”

 

Saúl felt his blood rush to his head and the earth moving beneath him. He could not comprehend what Lady de Pérez was saying. It could not be. How could his dearest sweetest Catalina kill herself? The next thing he knew, he was on the ground and Beatriz was next to him, shaking him awake. Lady de Pérez was summoning the servants for help. Saúl looked at Beatriz beseechingly, hoping her to contradict what the Lady had said. Beatriz closed her eyes, her face riddled with pain.

 

“My deepest apologies my friend,” whispered Beatriz, “I wish I could bring you happier tidings but I can’t.”

 

Saúl grabbed Beatriz’s hand convulsively. She did not betray any sign of pain despite Saúl’s firm grip. Her face instead was full of sorrow.

 

“How did it happen?” choked Saúl, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. Beatriz opened her mouth but Lady de Pérez’s arrival interrupted her, “Please doctor, attend to this young man immediately. He has suffered a great shock. Beatriz, prepare the room close to mine for Saúl. Sara, fetch some wet towels and hot water.”

 

Saúl had the funniest inkling that Lady de Pérez might be concealing something from him. He looked at Beatriz, who curtseyed silently and left. Before she disappeared from view though, she looked back at Saúl and gave him a highly meaningful look. Satisfied that he would at least learn the truth, Saúl tolerated the fuss around him so he could be left alone to wallow in his own despair. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later that night, Saúl found himself wide awake in the most comfortable room he had ever stayed in. With his mind so preoccupied and his heart so desolate, he took no notice of his worldly surroundings. A soft knock on the door, however, caught his attention.

 

Saúl was not entirely surprised to find Beatriz when he opened the door. She made a shushing noise and slid noiselessly into the room. Once inside, she broke down and proceeded to hug him tightly. Saúl felt hot tears falling onto his shoulder and he could hardly contain himself.

 

“Please Bea, I beseech you. Tell me the truth, all the particulars! I need to know what sort of misery and despair would let my sister, someone always so jovial and merry, choose to end her life!”

 

“It was a truly dreadful and abhorrent occurrence,” said Beatriz, still crying silently, “She came back to the room we shared one night and I could discern something was terribly wrong. Catalina was beside herself and would not cease crying. I tried to comfort her but to no avail; for she was utterly distraught. When she finally composed herself enough to speak, she confided in me, most reluctantly, that her virtue was lost and she deemed herself and her life worthless.”

 

“What do you mean by her virtue was lost?” exclaimed Saúl in astonishment, “How could she have lost her virtue? Unless…” Saúl gasped and Beatriz nodded, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks. Saúl stood up abruptly and started pacing the room incessantly. He felt like he might explode with rage at the truth. Beatriz watched him with an almost fearful expression on her face, “Oh Saúl, have I done the right thing by telling you? Would it not be better that you know not the unfortunate truth?”

 

“No!” said Saúl forcefully. He had finally stopped pacing yet he was still enraged. “You have done well by revealing the truth to me, Beatriz. Now I shall avenge myself and my sister on the sordid bastard who dared to defile my sister. So tell me, who is he?”

 

“No, no, no!” Beatriz shook her head vigorously and grabbed Saúl’s hands earnestly. “You shall think of no such thing! You cannot triumph against such a powerful man like…” she gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth. But it was too late; Saúl had already deduced who the man was. “It was Count de Pérez, was it not? I ought to have known! I never trusted that bastard yet I remained silent. I ought to have prevented this!”

 

“No, Saúl! It was not like that, not entirely. The Count did not just want to violate your sister. Catalina told me that the Count wanted to take her as his mistress. She, of course, refused his offer and…”

 

“And he forced himself upon her?” spat out Saúl contemptuously, “Such a despicable man! This changes nothing! I shall avenge myself even if this is the last thing I do!”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Saúl excused himself from the Count’s household for the next several days. Lady de Pérez granted his wish immediately, out of guilt or compassion he neither knew nor care. The only thing that occupied his thoughts was to requite the sufferings inflicted upon himself and his sister. When the all-consuming rage had subsided enough for him to see reason, however, Saúl realised most painfully that his mission would likely fail and end in his own demise.

 

Saúl had always been a brave young man, at least he had always considered himself as such. It did not mean that he was immune to fear, however. At the tender age of 18, Saúl had not encountered any real sufferings until now and he dreaded death as much as anyone, despite his desire to avenge his sister. He had no one to confide in this dilemma; for he wished not to burden his parents nor any of his relatives with the woeful tiding. In the meantime, Saúl had to resort to other means to preoccupy his mind and he found himself spending more time reading Antonius’ journal, which had progressed slowly from a lighthearted diary to heartbreaking record of their tragic end. 

 

_ “I know this shall be the end of our time in this lifetime; for I dare not dream that my dearest Cholius may survive this tragic ordeal. I regret not our decisions; as we are sacrificing ourselves for our beliefs and there is no greater honour. Oh, but to think that I shall never behold his face again, hear his wise words again, feel his tender touch again! We have had so little time together. Yet I shall not despair; for death is just the beginning of another journey, in the realm of the Almighty Osiris. We shall resurrect and may our love guides us to find each other in our next lifetime!” _

 

Saúl set down the book and closed his eyes. In his mind, he was imagining the heartbreaking moment of departure between Antonius and Cholius, both wonderful great men with a shared belief so powerful that they were willing to sacrifice their love and lives. Antonius’ conviction of their afterlife and resurrection filled Saúl with new-found courage. Somehow he was certain that Antonius was right. Death was not the end of a journey, merely the beginning of another one; and he shall greet it with open arms.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Saúl knew perfectly well that he could not accomplish this task himself, being a low stable boy. Neither did he know any person powerful enough to do this on his behalf. His only option then was either to kill the Count himself or attain the advice from someone with better connections. Saúl was not a violent man and he deemed murder as one of the greatest sins. Yet he was not above committing such crime for his most beloved sister. Still, Saúl had decided to use that as a last resort. Instead, he set off to find the one person he knew with the most connections, Villa.

 

Saúl was not surprised to see Jorge in his family abode. What did amaze him was the presence of Silva. In any other circumstances, Saúl would prefer not to divulge particulars of such nature to a strange. Today, however, he was too incenses and devastated to take heed of his own cautions. Wasting no time at all, he burst out in angry tears.

 

Jorge jumped to his feet and was by Saúl’s side at once. When he enfolded Saúl in his arms, Saúl let out a heart-wrenching cry like a wounded animal and buried his head in Jorge’s broad chest. Villa and Silva exchanged astonished looks before joining Jorge in comforting Saúl.

 

“What is the matter my dear friend?” cried Jorge in earnest concern, “Please tell me what is wrong! You alarm me!”

 

Saúl finally composed himself enough to speak, “A most distressing tragedy has happened. It’s about, about… about Catalina!” He then proceeded to tell them everything about Catalina.

 

“What?” Villa slammed both of his fists on the wooden table, breaking it in half. Yet he seemed not to notice, “that good-for-nothing bastard has, has… No! I can’t bel… It’s not possible!”

 

“It was my fault!” said Jorge the moment Saúl finished the tragic story, “I ought to have agreed to your offer when you came to me. That way, Catalina would never have to be employed by Lady de Pérez.”

 

“Of course not my friend!” said Saúl sincerely, “You have done nothing wrong apart from staying true to your heart. I could not possibly ask you to abandon your true love to wed Catalina. It wouldn’t be fair for any of you.”

 

“I have no hope of ever securing the hand of my true love,” said Jorge dejectedly, “I have forgone that hope long ago. I should have accepted the reality and help you with Catalina.”

 

“Don’t be absurd Jorge,” said Saúl in a firm tone, “It is surely not your fault. If anything, we are to blame. We’re her family after all and we ought to protect and tend her. We have failed her!”

 

“Saúl is right,” said Villa, his eyes glinting with rage, “It is not your fault Jorge. It is that disgusting, degrading, revolting, foul snakes de Pérez’s fault! The next time I see him, I shall make him feel the most excruciating pain and...”

 

“Yes, we must avenge Catalina!” said Saúl in an equally savage manner. 

 

Jorge tightened his grip on Saúl’s hand. “I know you too well to try to dissuade you, my friend. But are you quite sure about the possible consequences of your actions?”

 

“Of course I am!” said Saúl firmly, “I have thought it through and have made up my mind. I know the danger associated with this almost impossible task and I may have to pay with my life. But if Antonius and Cholius could defy the ruling power for their beliefs, so would I.”

 

Jorge looked deep into Saúl’s unwavering eyes and sighed, “Very well then. I shall do anything I can to help.”

 

“I truly appreciate your bravery and true friendship. But I cannot accept your kindness. Catalina is my sister and David’s cousin. We should be the ones avenging our family. Do you not agree, David?”

 

“Without doubt!” said Villa firmly, “I am with you cousin.”

 

When Jorge betrayed every sign of protest, Saúl stopped him, “I am serious my friend. Besides, we need someone to look after our family in case we do not return. I presume I can trust you with that?”

 

Jorge sighed again and said, “Naturally my friend. Your family is as good as mine and I swear I shall never let any harm come to them.”

 

Saúl smiled with satisfaction and turned to Villa, “Now David, are you acquainted with anyone who might be of some help?”

 

“You have to let me think,” said Villa, “we are not well-connected after all. Most of my acquaintances are poor starving artists. I do know a few of your father’s old acquaintances from the army but I doubt it will be of any real help though. It matters not though; for I shall kill that bastard with my own bare hands…”

 

“Wait,” said Silva suddenly, “you are acquainted with Colonel Gabriel Fernández, are you not? Did he not fight along Saúl’s father?”

 

“Yes, he did indeed!” said Saúl excitedly, “he was a great friend of my father’s and practically owed his life to my father. I am not particularly close to him though, having been born after my father’s retirement. How did you…”

 

“I once called upon his help in selling my paintings as a last resort and he could not have been more gracious,” replied Villa, “Not only did he buy my painting, but he also inquired after the family, particularly your father. Once he learned of our situation, he even went so far as to blame himself for not offering enough help to your father.”

 

“That was extremely obliging of him.” After what happened to Catalina, Saúl was surprised to find good-naturedness in people with power. 

 

“Indeed! He had paid us several visits afterwards but you were never home to receive him. He also found my paintings intriguing and expressed wishes to see more of them. So I have been spending time with him.”

 

Saúl contemplated the matter. A colonel was indeed the most connected and powerful person in their circle. Yet he doubted Gabriel could have any real influence to bring justice against someone as influential as Count de Pérez. To even suggest the idea to Gabriel would be extremely ungrateful and would surely end their friendship with the said Colonel. Sensing his doubts, Silva reassured him, “I know what you must be thinking. Do not fret, my friend, I am not suggesting that Colonel Gabriel shall be the one to fight Count de Pérez. But if my sources are correct, Colonel Gabriel has enjoyed a long and close friendship with Count de Simeone. If we could enlist his help to be granted an audience with the Count, who I have heard is a truly kind and just gentleman, we may stand a chance.”

 

“That is brilliant!” cried Villa excitedly and he went to hug Silva. Silva smiled back at him and blushed slightly at their close physical contact. Saúl had to admit, Silva was right and this was their best chance. He could only pray and hope Count de Simeone might be willing to help.


	10. Period 2 - 1273 AD

Saúl lost no time in going back to Count de Pérez’s household to find Beatriz, who was his best hope in confirming his accusations. To help prevail on Beatriz, he asked Jorge to accompany him, hoping that Beatriz’s possible attachment to Jorge might work in his favour. Fortunately, Saúl and Jorge were able to find Beatriz in her room, alone.

 

“Dearest Bea,” said Saúl as he walked straight to Beatriz, who looked up from her embroidery utterly startled, “I am so sorry for intruding upon your privacy like this. But I am in such a haste that I must forego my manners. We are in desperate need of your help.” He then proceeded to tell her everything Count de Simeone had recounted from his time in Court.

 

“Oh my dear friend,” cried Beatriz with a conflicted voice, “I really do wish to be of use to you on this matter, particularly because it concerned Catalina. But I cannot think of only myself. The Count knows my entire family. I shudder to think what might become of them if I choose to testify against him in Court!”

 

“But no harm shall ever come to them, or you,” said Jorge in a most convincing and calm tone, “Count de Simeone is a powerful nobleman who honours his words. He has made the promise to look after anyone willing to testify against Count de Pérez. You may not have met Count de Simeone, but he is a truly generous and kind gentleman. I am certain he will protect your family too.”

 

When he saw the still hesitant look on Beatriz’s face, Jorge insisted, “I know this must be difficult for you. But this is Catalina. She was your friend, was she not?”

 

Beatriz nodded reluctantly, “she was indeed, but…”

 

“Then the Beatriz I have been fortunate enough to know and admire would have the courage to defy even the most puissant adversary, would she not?”

 

Beatriz looked from Jorge’s dark sincere eyes to the pleading looks on Saúl faces, and finally acquiesced, “I shall testify against Count de Pérez, only if I shall have Count de Simeone’s words that my family shall be safe from harm.”

 

“You shall have mine and his words,” promised Jorge solemnly and Saúl let out a sigh of relief. He was beginning to hope, something he had never dared to do before.

 

“Well, I have my faith in you,” said Beatriz to Jorge, “I shall need to inform my family. Shall we meet later at dusk, in the small chapel close to my family abode?”

 

“I am most obliged for your help, Bea,” said Saúl passionately, “Your testament shall be the key to bringing justice to Catalina. I am sure her poor soul could finally rest in peace after the ordeal is over.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Saúl, Villa, and Jorge appeared in front of the small chapel Beatriz appointed as meeting place at exactly the right time. But to their surprise and dismay, it was completely deserted but for the young reverend, Father Lucas Hernández. They exchanged worried looks and Jorge hurried to greet Father Hernández, “Good evening father, how are you on this fine evening?”

 

Father Hernández, a handsome young man, smiled pleasantly at Jorge, “I am doing quite well, thank you, my dear friend. What brings you and your friend here?”

 

“We are here to mee…” said Saúl in a hushed tone but Villa interrupted him, “Actually, we are just taking a walk around the area. Have you been in the church the whole time, father?”

 

Father Hernández frowned and looked at them suspiciously but did not press the matter any further. He simply replied, “Yes, I spent my entire day in the church, doing work for our Lord. How may that be of interest to you, if I may ask?”

 

“Then perhaps you have seen Señorita Espejel,” said Villa casually, “We came to pay Señora Espejel a visit and she said that her daughter went to the church to pray. She asked us to send words to Señorita Espejel if we happen to see her, as Señora Espejel was waiting for her daughter to supper.”

 

Villa’s calm and casual tone seemed to have convinced Father Hernández, as he smiled again and said, “Ah I understand now. Unfortunately, I have not seen her at all. She might have gone to a different church. Maybe you shall check there.”

 

“Of course we shall,” said Jorge before Saúl could open his mouth, “Thank you very much for your help father. Have a pleasant evening!”

 

“Why did you not let me speak?” asked Saúl angrily the moment they were safely alone.

 

“Because,” said Villa in a low serious voice, “I fear for the worst. Señorita Espejel is not the sort of young lady to go back on her words, is she?”

 

“Of course not,” said Saúl, “She may not be the easiest to prevail on, but once she has given you her word, she always honours it.”

 

“If she has not had a change of heart,” frowned Villa, “the only possible explanation for her disappearance is that something has happened and has prevented her from making this appointment. Under the current circumstances, I dare say I have a fairly good idea who might have delayed her.”

 

Jorge gasped, “How was that possible? We were discrete when we conversed with Beatriz, were we not? How could Count de Pérez find out?”

 

Villa shook his head, “I know not. But your conversation did take place inside the Count’s manor, did it not? Count de Pérez may have someone spying on you the whole time, which is why I asked you to cease talking earlier Saúl. We know not whom to trust or where the Count may have his eyes or ears. It is better to be cautious.”

 

Saúl nodded silently. His heart refused to believe Villa and his gloomy hypothesis, yet his mind was telling him to face the reality. A great wave of guilt rushed through his mind, for he realised that should anything happen to Beatriz, he would be the as much a culprit as Count de Pérez. The only thing he could do now though was to pray for a miracle.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The three friends spent a restless night in Saúl’s house, waiting anxiously for dawn to bring either hopeful or devastating news. Saúl fell in and out of sleep, his dreams bizarre and haunted. During his brief moments of consciousness, he could see Jorge kneeling in front of the cross, praying in silent, and Villa pacing the room like a caged animal, frowning the whole time.

 

At the brink of dawn, their fitful tension was broken when Father Griezmann entered the room, looking very grim indeed.

 

“What news?” cried Saúl but Father Griezmann shook his head. “I’m afraid I have no good news for you, my dear friend. Diego sent me to warn you that Count de Pérez had spent the whole night in Court with the King.”

 

“What?” all three cried in unison of disbelief.

 

“Indeed,” nodded Father Griezmann, looking thoroughly disturbed, “Diego was summoned to Court this very morning. Fortunately, the King’s servant sent to summon Diego was a friend of Lord de Torres’, the Count’s old friend in Court and one of the King’s favourites. The servant hinted at some potential predicament of Diego in Court. We could only assume Count de Pérez has managed to regain the King’s favour and good opinion.”

 

“We are lost,” muttered Saúl in despair.

 

“The situation is indeed dire,” sighed Father Griezmann, “I cannot pretend otherwise. I also heard of your failed meeting with Señorita Espejel from Father Hernández. Oh, rest assured,” he added hastily at the horrified looks on the others’ faces, “he is a friend of mine and can be trusted. But the disappearance of Señorita Espejel is highly alarming and distressing. I have asked Father Hernández to investigate, in secret of course, this unusual circumstance, yet my hopes are not high.”

 

Saúl sat down on his stool and buried his head in his palms. Their case seemed quite lost and their fate sealed. What he hated more, was how many people he had involved in this case and how they must suffer because of him. The concerned look on Father Griezmann’s usually cheerful face was warning enough that Count de Simeone was in real trouble at Court, all because of him. Should anything happen to the Count, Saúl had to live and maybe die with the knowledge that it was him who brought hardship and sorrow to the Count and Father Griezmann, who would otherwise be perfectly happy. He was not quite sure if he could live or die with that. When he looked up, he said in an almost strangled voice, “I am truly sorry Father. The Count… It is all my…”

 

“Don’t be absurd,” cried Father Griezmann and he hurried to Saúl’s side to hold his hand, “This is not your fault. Count de Pérez is the one to blame. He is the one who destroyed a beautiful young girl for his carnal pleasure and sent your family into despair. He is the one who lied to the King about his crime and tried to use the King’s favour to disgrace Diego. He is the true evil. Surely you are not going to blame yourself for his sins!”

 

Saúl said nothing. When Father Griezmann opened his mouth to comfort Saúl some more, he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Silva.

 

“I have dreadful news,” cried Silva without preamble, slightly out-of-breath, “the body of Señorita Espejel was found and identified.”

 

“Do you think Count de Pérez orchestrated the attack?” said Jorge after a long stunned silence, his eyes wet.

 

“I am certain of it!” exclaimed Saúl angrily, “His spies are everywhere and they must have eavesdropped on us while we were trying to persuade Beatriz. Realising that her testimony would ruin his reputation and friendship with the King forever, he ordered someone to eliminate Beatriz. I bet you anything he must have asked Pepe to do it. Pepe manages all his sordid affairs.”

 

Father Griezmann looked deeply troubled, “While I am inclined to believe your theories, my friend, we have no real proof on Count de Pérez or this Pepe’s involvement in Señorita Espejel’s tragic demise. Without proof, we cannot present this to the King, who is so partial to Count de Pérez that he would think we were trying to besmirch his name. Oh, if this were true, Count de Pérez must have planned all his attacks in Court today. What would happen to Diego!”

 

Villa, who had remained silent the whole time, stood up suddenly and his countenance was determined and stern. Everyone stared at him, unsure what he was about to do, everyone except Silva, who seemed to read Villa’s mind, as he looked at Villa with sad eyes. Villa directed his gaze towards no one but Silva “My dear friend, thank you so much for risking your own safety to bring us the news. You are a true friend of mine and I shall never forget that., however, under the current circumstances, there was only one thing left for me to do.”

 

“Oh David, surely there is some other way!” cried Silva most passionately and Saúl looked at him in utter astonishment. Villa was most particular about his friendship that very precious few may address him by his first name. For someone like Silva, who had only been acquaintanced with Villa for less than a year, to be granted this privilege was unheard of. The look of deep affection in Villa and Silva’s eyes though was clear indication of their mutual attachment.  

 

Villa smiled sadly, “I am afraid not, David. The only way to end this is for me to kill Count de Pérez.”

 

“What?”

“You are out of your mind!”

“You can’t be…”

 

Villa held out a hand to silence all their shouting and said simply, “Count de Simeone is in Court right now, probably being attacked by Count de Pérez. If this is as we have suspected, I presume the King would detain him in Court further, even after the questioning is over. He has no way of getting the information out, which is probably a blessing, as this would prevent him from being implicated in this. Count de Pérez, on the other hand, would return home triumphant. He knows not who I am. If I manage to ambush and kill him, no one would have to suffer any further.”

 

“But what if you fail?” exclaimed Jorge, “Even if you succeed, you shall take flight right away and never to return. And even if you do, who is to say the King shall not find you! This is suicide Villa!”

 

“I am aware of all those possible scenarios and I am prepared for them all,” replied Villa in a calm voice, “Yet I see no other better option and I am willing to sacrifice myself for you, for Catalina, and for Count de Simeone. Speak no more Jorge, I have made up my mind.”

 

Jorge turned to look pleadingly at Silva, who sighed, “I do not like the plan but I agree with David, it is the only option. I know David too well to try to persuade him otherwise. If he does not do it, he would not be who he is.”

 

Saúl looked at Father Griezmann and asked, “What do you think Father?”

 

Father Griezmann looked from one to the other and sighed, “As a servant of God, I am afraid I cannot endorse such actions of violence. But I can appreciate your motivations and I applaud you for your courage and self-sacrifice. I am so sorry I cannot help you more, for you are young men of such pure heart and fine characters with such unjust done to you.”

 

Before anyone of them could say another word though, a third knock on the door brought them a new visitor.

 

The young gentleman outside the door was tall and handsome. It was, however, his pleasing manners and graces of person that recommended him to everyone’s good opinion. Father Griezmann, however, was shocked to see him, “Lord de Torres! What brings you here? Is Diego…?”

 

Lord de Torres closed the door behind him carefully and said in a rushed tone, “Forgive my manners gentlemen, but we have no time to lose. I am here because my dear friend Diego needed to me deliver a message, or more precisely, a warning.”

 

“How is Diego?” asked Father Griezmann breathlessly, “Is he still in Court? Has the King…”

 

“Diego is fine,” interrupted Lord de Torres impatiently, “Count de Pérez was not foolish enough to think that he could usurp Diego’s power with this single incident. He will, of course, continue to try to diminish Diego’s power and influence in Court but that is hardly a novelty. The message I have from Diego concerns you,” he nodded towards Saúl and Villa.

 

Villa spat on the floor angrily, “What has that wicked bastard said to the King?”

 

“A most abominable lie,” said Lord de Torres, his face colouring from anger, “I am so sorry but Count de Pérez told the King that you, together with Señorita Ñíguez, were Moorish spies.”

 

“What?” cried Saúl, Jorge, and Father Griezmann in unison. Villa, on the other hand, said nothing, his eyes red. His silence had clearly scared Silva, who grabbed Villa’s hands and examined Villa’s face closely for signs of uncontrollable outburst.

 

“Yes,” sighed Lord de Torres, “It was utterly unforgivable. He said that Catalina was caught while trying to steal important military documents from himself. She refused to confess and died during interrogation.”

 

“That despicable, vile liar! The most unworthy lowlife I have ever seen! How dare he?” Saúl felt such rage and hatred never experienced in his life, not even when he learned the truth behind Catalina’s tragic demise. He simply could not find words strong enough to describe how much he loathed Count de Pérez.

“My most sincere apologies,” said Lord de Torres, “But I am afraid that is not all. Count de Pérez also told the King that you and Señor Villa, both Moorish spies committed to the cause, had decided to go to Count de Simeone and lie to him so he could be manipulated into believing Count de Pérez’s involvement in the case.”

 

“How could the King believe him?” exclaimed Father Griezmann incredulously, “The King knows Diego too well to believe that Diego could be thus deceived. Besides, if Saúl and Villa were indeed Moorish spies, should they not flee the city now that their cover might be compromised?”

 

“Unfortunately, Count de Pérez knows the King and Diego too well. He knows perfectly well that the King’s aware of Diego’s strong sense of justice and his desire to help those underprivileged. He has managed to convince the King that Diego’s kind heart has clouded his usual good judgement. As for the fleeing part, he has described Señor Ñíguez and Villa as the most dedicated Moorish spies, who would be more than willing to die for the cause, just as Señorita Ñíguez did. The Count has apparently learned of Señor Villa’s mother’s heritage and has used that as an extremely useful weapon. He told the King that Señor Ñíguez and Villa were hoping to discredit either him, if he was convicted of the crime, or Diego, if the King found out the so-called truth and believed that Diego was involved in the scheme. The reason was of course that both the Count and Diego were strong proponents of Reconquista. Either of them losing favour with the King shall be very advantageous to the Moors.”

 

The whole room was silent. Saúl had to admit, despite his fury at Count de Pérez, that the Count was a brilliant schemer. By declaring Count de Simeone’s innocence, Count de Pérez had earned himself the impression of a loyal impartial servant dedicated to the King’s service, which made his argument million times more convincing. Had he tried to implicate Count de Simeone, it would be a lot easier for Count de Simeone to argue that Count de Pérez was merely lying about his crime while trying to discredit a political opponent.

 

Father Griezmann broke the silence, “How did Diego respond to this?”

 

Lord de Torres shook his head, “The King had been predisposed to think in Count de Pérez’s favour. All he needed was a somewhat plausible explanation and Count de Pérez handed him a perfect one. He refused to listen to Diego, who tried to argue the case. But without Señorita Espejel’s testimony, Diego’s arguments were mere hypotheses and aimed at Count de Pérez’s character. This did not go well with the King, who reprimanded Diego for letting his personal bias towards the Count interfere with his judgement.”

 

“So the King’s decision is final?” asked Jorge in a hollow voice.

 

Lord de Torres nodded, “I am afraid so. Diego was still in Court, as the King would not let him go. The only thing he could do was to pass the message to me so I could get to you before it is too late. You must flee this very instance. Any moment wasted would be detrimental. The King could send his guards to arrest you any minute now.”

 

“How can we flee while Count de Simeone is in dire situations because of us?” Asked Villa solemnly, “If the guard cannot find us, the King will know that we have been informed and this could put not just the Count but you in danger too! We cannot implicate you any further!”

 

“You have no other choice!” said Father Griezmann earnestly, “While as Diego’s friendly, I truly appreciate your concern for his welfare, the worst that could happen to him would be to lose the King’s favour. For you, however, the alternative is death. You cannot risk that to be sure!”

 

“We are men of honour!” cried Saúl passionately, “We would rather die a hero’s death than betray a friend to live a lowlife!”

 

Before Father Griezmann could say anything though, a loud banging noise could be heard from the door. Villa turned to Lord de Torres and Father Griezmann, his eyes determined, “They are here and we shall stay! Please leave now and take our friends with you. I insist!” he raised his voice forcefully when both gentlemen opened their mouths to protest, “as you have said, there is no time to lose. Leave now so you may save our friends and help our families! Leave now!”


	11. Period 2 - 1273 AD

As the banging grew louder, Lord de Torres and Father Griezmann had to yield to Villa and Saúl’s will and leave. They had to drag Silva and Jorge though, for neither was keen to leave their friends.

 

“Let me stay with you, David!” pleaded Silva but Villa put his finger on Silva’s lips to silence him, “I cannot David. You have to go now! I cannot risk anything happening to you, which shall be 100 times worse than if it happens to me. Fear not, I shall be fine. Go, my dear friend!” With that, he sealed his lips with Silva’s and pushed him out of the back door.

 

Mouth wide open, Saúl almost forgot their current predicament, “Villa, you and Silva? I have never…”

 

“Sometimes it takes extraordinary circumstances for one to realise his true feelings,” said Villa calmly, “David has been my true friend since we first met. He has not only accepted and tolerated my temper but also understood and appreciated my thoughts and beliefs. We have long formed an attachment yet neither spoken of nor acted upon it. Had it not been this unpredicted turn of events, I doubt we ever shall. For this alone, I regret not what had happened.”

 

Saúl knew not what to say. He had long known Villa to be of a solitary nature and he could hardly imagine Villa marrying any woman. When Saúl first met Silva, he was surprised to find the young art dealer’s apparent close friendship with Villa. Yet never had he imagined that the friendship between them would turn into mutual affections and attachment, not necessarily because they were both males, which in fact made a lot more sense than Villa with a female, but because, well, it was Villa after all. He was happy for his cousin though, for he had finally found his soulmate, even though at a rather unfortunate and inconvenient time. His thoughts, however, were interrupted by the sound of the door crashing down from the force of the King’s guards.

 

Heading the squads were Señor de Ramos, one of the King’s most devoted servants. He saw Saúl and Villa in the room and cleared his throat, “Are you Señor Villa and Señor Ñíguez.”

 

“Aye,” answered Saúl proudly, “we are indeed.”

 

“Very well,” nodded Señor de Ramos solemnly. He had betrayed no sign of hostility nor contempt, which surprised Saúl a little, “The King has requested that I arrest both of you under the charge of consorting with the Moors and conspiring against the King. You shall be brought to and held at the jail. Now, if you shall follow me.” He nodded to his fellow guards and they rushed forward to bind Villa and Saúl. Saúl said nothing, for he knew what his fate shall be yet feared it not. Villa, on the other hand, cursed incessantly while the guards apprehended him.

 

The prison was dark and abysmal. The rotting smell, the rusty chains, and the dark blood stains on the walls all told Saúl what kind of unfortunate souls may have perished within its boundaries and what similar fate awaited them. He was not afraid, however, and when he turned to look at Villa, he saw no sign of fear either. Señor de Ramos remained silent until they had reached their cell, which was dark and windowless. Saúl was grateful that he and Villa were at least together.

 

“Now,” said Señor de Ramos, “This cell is where you shall be held until the King decides upon your fate. My work is done and I shall leave you here. May God be with you.” With that, he left the cell, taking the guards with him.

 

So Saúl and Villa were left alone in their cell. Saúl knew not what to expect, for he had never imagined himself, a law-abiding citizen, end up in a place like this. Villa remained silent as he situated himself in the corner of the cell, closed his eyes and leaned against the damp reeking wall. Saúl wondered if Villa was thinking of Silva, his only bright light in such a hopeless state of affairs. He was envious of Villa for that, for Saúl himself had no such person to think of, no beam of light and warmth to hold on to, no string of love to tether him to this joyless world.

 

“Get up!” the brusque voice of a prison guard made both Villa and Saúl look up, “Señor Pepe is here to summon you for questioning. Make haste and move you scums.”

 

Villa gave him a most contemptuous look before rising slowly and regally from his corner. In fact, he looked like a King ready to grace his estates, rather than a prisoner about to be interrogated. Saúl followed him out of the cell, trying to be as calm and dignified as Villa.

 

They were greeted with the unpleasant sight of a sneering Pepe at the end of the corridor leading to the interrogation room, looking particularly sinister. Saúl couldn’t help but feel a chill in his heart. Villa, on the other hand, ignored Pepe completely. He walked straight past Pepe as if he was not there. Pepe’s smirk turned into a glare.

 

“You may look brave and stately now, Villa,” hissed Pepe menacingly, “Rest assured though that I shall have you weep like a child and beg me for mercy.”

 

Villa turned to give Pepe a most disdainful look, “It surprises me not that you shall think such, for I do not expect someone as despicable as you to even comprehend the meaning of honour, justice and bravery. I am innocent and have nothing to confess, no matter what you may do to me.”

 

Pepe smiled mysteriously, “Well, maybe you shall change your mind after you have seen our toys in the room. Please, be my guest.” He took a step back and opened the gate to the interrogation room and Saúl nearly fainted on the spot.

 

The room was very spacious and decorated with all sorts of machinery whose purpose was unknown to Saúl. Yet he could deduce the general idea from the looks of them alone. Pepe was smug now.

 

“Yes, we are very fond of our collection. In addition to the common uncreative ones, one can find some rather interesting designs here. You see the Rack, quite an ingenious invention is it not? We have imported this from Britain. The pear of anguish is rather nice too but I am afraid it is too gentle for traitors like you. The iron chair and head crusher require no further explanation I presume. And of course, the knee splitter, one of my personal favourites.” Pepe ran his fingers through the woodblocks with sickening fondness and Saúl felt he was about to be sick.

 

Villa said in a low voice, “I am not afraid of your disgusting machines. I would rather die in this room as an innocent man than plead guilty to crimes I have not committed.”

 

“Oh no,” Pepe’s smile grew even larger, “We shall not start with you today. You will have the privilege of watching me perform the art of questioning on your little cousin.” Upon the horrified looks on Villa’s face, Pepe laughed, “Yes, maybe his scream shall change your mind, Señor Villa.”

 

Saúl said nothing. He did not trust his voice not to betray his inner fear. He thought of Antonius and Cholius and wondered if they were secretly terrified of their fate like he was now. Yet Saúl drew strength from their story and his mind was surprisingly clear and determined. He shall not give in to whatever torture Pepe had in mind. He shall defend his innocence and Catalina’s honour. He shall speak the truth as long as he still had one breath left in him.

 

The next hour was painstakingly long for Saúl. He was whipped, again and again, dunked into the water repeatedly and extracted right before he suffocated, put on the Rack until he could no longer feel his limbs. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Villa fighting against the guards holding him, screaming his name with tears streaming down his face. Tears on Villa’s face! Saúl had thought he would never live to see that. He wanted to tell Villa to not worry about him because he was not afraid. Yet he had screamed himself hoarse and drifted in and out of conscious. Every time when Pepe asked him though, Saúl kept repeating, “I am not a Moorish spy. I am innocent. Count de Pérez assaulted my sister Catalina’s virtue and shall be condemned in hell for his crime.”

 

Finally, Pepe had exhausted himself and had decided to let them go for the day. “Do not be too content though,” leered Pepe, “today was simply a taste of what is to come. Next time, I shall really play with some of my toys.”

 

Saúl had not the will nor the energy to retort back. He simply collapsed to the ground, his body limp. Villa rushed to his side and picked him up. Large drops of hot tears fell onto Saúl’s heavily bruised face but Saúl could not move his arms to wipe them out. He tried to give Villa a smile, which probably turned out a grimace, and faded into the blissful unconsciousness.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Saúl only managed to regain his consciousness by the feel of sharp pain. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Jorge at his feet, cleaning his wounds gently with a wet cloth. Saúl tried to reach for his friend but his strength failed him and he had to settle to watch his friend in silence. Though he could not see Jorge’s face clearly, Saúl could feel the tears dropped onto his feet. He felt a strong emotion in his heart towards Jorge, something he could not quite explain. When Jorge touched a particularly painful wound though, Saúl could not help but let out a yell of pain, which startled Jorge.

 

“I am so extremely sorry my friend,” yelped Jorge and he rushed to Saúl’s side, “I should have been more careful.”

 

“Don’t be silly,” smiled Saúl, “I am glad you are here.”

 

Jorge brought Saúl’s hand to his lips and kissed it almost reverently, which amazed Saúl for he had known Jorge to be quiet and reserved. Jorge, however, seemed not to care about his uncharacteristic display of emotions, “How are you feeling my friend? I have tried to clean all your wounds but…” he wiped out more tears, “some of them are so serious that I cannot… Oh Saúl, how can they do this to you!”

 

Saúl laughed bitterly but even this was too much an exertion for him that he ended up coughing violently. Jorge carefully placed his arm under Saúl’s neck to gently raise him up to a sitting position, which finally ceased the coughing. Saúl gave his friend a grateful look before continuing, “It was Pepe, who had a pathological fascination with inflicting pain on others. I suppose I shall consider myself lucky that I have not lost a limb.”

 

“That shall never happen.” Count de Simeone’s voice astounded Saúl so much that he almost fell to the floor, had it not been Jorge. When he looked around, however, Saúl realised that he and Jorge were not alone. Father Griezmann was standing next to Count de Simeone, looking exceedingly serious and doleful. Villa was in the other corner of the room, huddled together with Silva. Though he had not been tortured physically, the emotional toll the whole ordeal had placed on him was evident. His eyes were red and puffy and he looked like he had not slept for days. Silva had his arm wrapped around Villa, whose head was resting on Silva’s shoulder, while whispering comforting words into Villa’s ears.

 

“I have spoken to the King about the appalling behaviour of Pepe,” said Count de Simeone in a disgusted tone, “I am always against such cruel torture techniques and to have them used on someone like you is absolutely abhorrent.”

 

“So the King shall forbid Pepe to torture Saúl again?” asked Jorge hopefully.

 

Count de Simeone sighed, “Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee that. The King had no moral qualms about such questioning techniques and only reluctantly agreed to limit the torturing to whipping only,” he looked at Saúl and Villa with a pained look in his eyes,” I am deeply sorry I cannot prevent this ordeal from happening again to you, nor can I thwart Pepe’s twist scheme to make one of you watch your friend suffer. I have failed you, once again.”

 

Saúl could tell the Count was sincere and deeply affected by their situation. He had never thought of blaming the Count, who had done so much for them at the risk of his own life. “You have done everything you could, Your Excellency. I am beholden to you for everything, truly.”

 

Count de Simeone opened his mouth but closed it again. The hesitation made Saúl curious, “Please Your Excellency, if you have news to share. I have long accepted that absolute worst and I would rather hear that from you.”

 

“It is not really news to share,” said Count de Simeone hesitantly, “more of a piece of, well, advice.”

 

“I would truly appreciate any advice from Your Excellency.”

 

“Well,” Count de Simeone chose his words very carefully, “the reason why those torturing techniques not only exist but are keenly encouraged by the King is that they are the quickest way to secure a confession. Once a confession has been made, truthful or not, the torturing generally terminates. Under the current circumstance, the likelihood of you being acquitted is unfortunately very low. Given that, it might be in your best interest to confess to the crime so at least you shall not be tortured again.”

 

Saúl gave Count de Simeone a defiant look, “I shall never lie to spare myself suffering. To confess to the crime is to condemn Catalina’s and my soul. It is utter betrayal to my beliefs and to Catalina’s memories.”

 

Father Griezmann took several steps forward to hold Saúl’s hand and said earnestly, “My dear friend, permit me to address you so, for I have come to regard you as a friend of mine for your noble character and kind heart, I implore you to reconsider. I understand your feelings and I admire you for your courage and dedication. But please think about what might become of you. Pepe is known for his cruelty and the King has shown no displeasure in his treatment towards you. To gain a full confession, Pepe will be granted full autonomy in what methods he wishes to employ and that could mean real agony, far worse than what you have experienced. It pains me and your loved ones to see you go through this.”

 

Saúl laughed bitterly, “But is it not a sin to lie, my friend? Shall your God not punish me for committing such a crime?”

 

“I am sure the Lord shall forgive you, given the injustice you have suffered.”

 

“That might be so,” said Saúl calmly, “Yet I shall never forgive myself and that my friend, forgive me for saying so, is more important to me than your God.”

 

Father Griezmann opened his mouth but Count de Simeone patted him gently to stop him, “I think Señor Ñíguez shall be the one to choose his own destiny. I understand his motivations and I applaud him. Not many mortals shall stay true to their hearts in the face of such adversaries. I respect your decision, Saúl, and so shall you, Antoine.”

 

Father Griezmann sighed, “I suppose you are right, Diego. I am so very sorry we cannot be of more help.” He looked at Saúl and Villa and asked, “Is there anything we can do? Anything at all, to make your stay here less miserable?”

 

Saúl shook his head. Frankly, he doubted that anyone could alleviate his pain at this point. Villa, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke, “I do thank you for your kindness and generosity. Both of you have done so much for us that we cannot trouble you any further.” He hesitated before continuing, “If at all possible, however, and please do tell me if it is too much bother, I am wondering if you could bring me some materials for painting. I need something to occupy my mind while our bodies undergo physical torments.”

 

“Of course we can,” cried Father Griezmann and Count de Simeone nodded in agreement, “we have, after all, that ability. We shall bring you as much as you shall ever want.”

 

Villa bowed in gratitude and remained silent for the rest of the visit. Saúl could tell his usually tough cousin was deeply affected by his own suffering. Yet he knew not how to help him, for, despite all his pledges and words, Saúl himself was in need of some help to regain his strength. Father Griezmann and Count de Simeone left soon after to afford some privacy for the two pairs of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to write. I literally had to research medieval torture methods and came across some very disturbing pics. Apologies to Pepe. I know he's a good bloke, particularly off the pitch, but he just fits the villain type so perfectly.


	12. Period 2 - 1273 AD

Once Father Griezmann and the Count were gone, Jorge resumed his meticulous cleaning of Saúl’s wounds in silence. Saúl felt the unspoken reproach from his friend and he could barely stand it.

 

“What is the matter, Jorge? Surely you of all people, understand why I cannot give in.”

 

Jorge said nothing for a while before finally replying in a low voice, “Of course I do. I have known you for such a long time to know you not to acquiesce in the current circumstances. Yet,” he finally looked up and locked his gaze with Saúl’s, “this is the infamous Pepe we are talking about here. Have you really…”

 

“Indeed I have,” Saúl interrupted Jorge firmly, “I am fully aware what lies ahead. I shall suffer great physical pain. I shall not live after this ordeal. I may not even retain all my body parts. Believe me, my friend, I have considered all those eventualities.”

 

“Then how can you…” cried Jorge, finally foregoing all pretences of calm, “To put yourself through all this!”

 

“Because sometimes it is worthwhile to die for one’s beliefs,” said Saúl and he reached for Jorge’s hands. It was crucial that his best friend understand this, “There are things in this world greater and more important than our earthly shells. We will all die one day; we have no choice in that. Yet the legacies we leave behind are within our grasps. Look at Antonius and Cholius, both chose their faiths above their lives and even their love. I am trying to do the same here. If I don’t, I would not be who I am.”

 

Jorge gave Saúl a pained look before rising abruptly and walking away. Saúl’s eyes followed his friend’s movement, as Jorge paced back and forth in the cell, with his back turned. When he finally stopped, he was still looking away, “I understand my friend. But have you thought of how your decision might affect others? How others who care about you deeply may be tormented by your sufferings.”

 

Saúl was somewhat at a loss, “I understand Villa is going through a hard time and I feel for him. But I am sure Silva shall be able to comfort him. As for my parents, I have put my faith in you that they shall never learn of what truly happens to me in here. Father Griezmann and Count de Simeone seemed to understand and accept my decision so…”

 

“But what about me?” Jorge turned around and burst out, his eyes red with tears, “Have you thought of what I have been through? Do you have any idea how I felt when I beheld you earlier today, the love of my life, bruised, broken, and lifeless on the floor? I felt my world shattered! I felt my heart broken to pieces. Every ounce of pain inflicted on you was multiplied in my heart and I wish I could die for you or at least with you! The thought of you going through even more afflictions and pain of the worst kind is agonising and I cannot take it without going insane! Tell me what to do my love! Tell me how to help you or forget you!”

 

Saúl was utterly speechless. Never had he thought that Jorge, his dearest friend, would have romantic inclinations towards him. He had always regarded Jorge as a dear friend and brother and somehow assumed the feelings were mutual. Yet he could tell his friend was most sincere in his outburst. He could feel his friend’s pain and distress, which all stemmed from his friend’s real love for him.

 

“I…” Saúl opened his mouth and closed it again. He simply knew not what to say. Jorge, on the other hand, buried his head in his hands and judging by the trembling of his shoulder, seemed to be crying. Saúl reached out a tentative hand on Jorge’s shoulder and was relieved that his friend had not rejected him.

 

“I am so sorry that I knew not your feelings,” Saúl chose his words very cautiously, “I have never imagined for a second that I was your great love. Please forgive me for my insensitivities towards your feelings. I simply did not realise it.”

 

Jorge heaved a long breath and wiped his face with his hand. He then looked up and Saúl was glad to notice that his friend seemed to have regained his composure, “Fret not my friend. I shall never blame you for I have taken every measure to conceal my true feelings from you. I would never have spoken a word nor acted upon it, for I know it is forbidden and wish not to trouble you with it. Now given the circumstances, however, I feel that I have to let you know for I cannot bear the thought of you dying without knowing the truth. Please forgive me for being so selfish.”

 

Saúl placed his hand on Jorge’s cheek and smiled dolefully, “there is nothing to forgive my dear friend. I am glad you told me, for I know that there is one person in this world who loves me for who I am, who shall remember me even after I am gone, who shall tether me to this world through his love and memories. I must thank you, my friend, for presenting me with the most beautiful gift at the end of my life.”

 

Jorge nodded with difficulty. With tears in his eyes, he choked and bent down to press a fervent kiss on Saúl’s lips before rushing out of the cell, clearly overcome with emotion.

 

Saúl knew not what to say. When his eyes met Silva’s, he could tell from the sorrowful understanding that Silva knew this all along. Saúl was not surprised, however, “How long have you known?”

 

Silva sighed, “Since I first spent time with both of you in the same room. I could tell from the way he looked at you that you meant more to him than anything else in the world. He was trying to conceal this from you of course. Jorge is naturally reserved and I suspect he wished not to burden you with his unrequited feelings.”

 

“But how does he know his feelings shall not be reciprocated?” whispered Saúl, almost to himself, “Had he told me sooner, I might have…”

 

“Then tell him!” said Villa in a loud determined voice, “Forgive me cousin but our days are numbered. Do not go to your grave with regrets. Tell him how you feel so he shall have something to remember you by.”

 

Saúl nodded. He spent the rest of the day trying to best articulate his feelings for Jorge to himself. The truth was it had been a difficult undertaking as Saúl’s feelings towards Jorge had been so mixed that he found it almost futile to separate them. His spirits were lifted slightly, however when Silva promised him that he would visit soon with Jorge.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Silva’s promise and the prospect of seeing Jorge again was the only thing that sustained Saúl in the next couple days. Just as Count de Simeone had foretold, the King had no wish to restrain Pepe from his barbaric practices. Saúl and Villa were brought in for questioning, during which Saúl was tortured again. His previous wounds, which had not healed despite Jorge’s best effort, were reopened and started to suppurate. The infection had risen Saúl’s temperature, which left him in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently. Villa was forced to witness Pepe torturing Saúl’s again, which made him even more distraught and recluse. He barely made any noise and spent most of his time in the cell staring at the ceiling.

 

The fourth day of their imprisonment brought them an unexpected visitor. Señor de Ramos entered the cell with a large bag, which made both Saúl and Villa look up. 

 

“I am here on behalf of Count de Simeone,” announced Señor de Ramos the moment the cell door was closed, “He has requested my help to deliver this package to both of you.”

 

Saúl, with great difficulty, sat up a little straighter. His previous anxiety and despair were replaced with slight curiosity. Villa, on the other hand, seemed not bothered.

 

The package, it turned out, contained all the painting material Villa had requested, which had finally brought Villa out of his mental state of utter seclusion as he rushed forward to take them, and several vials of different coloured balms.

 

“These are for you,” explained Señor de Ramos and he opened one for Saúl, “Father Griezmann is a rather ingenious apothecary and he had concocted them for your wounds.”

 

Saúl took the vial and applied the balm to his wounds cautiously. The effect was immediate as the pain receded significantly. Feeling extremely grateful, he accepted the rest from Señor de Ramos, “I shall be forever in your and Father Griezmann’s debt, which may not mean much under the current circumstances. But I shall express my gratitude towards both of you again.”

 

“Do not thank me,” said Señor de Ramos seriously, “I am not here because I believe in your innocence. My only duty is to serve my King and I shall regard his opinion as the only one that matters. I am merely doing this favour for my friend Lord de Torres.”

 

“We understand,” said Villa, for the first time in several days, “but we are still thankful for your help.”

 

Señor de Ramos nodded curtly. He then hesitated before speaking again, “Count de Simeone wished me to deliver a message as well. I am not sure if I shall, for I do not wish to aid the enemies of my King in any way.”

 

“We are no enemies of the King,” cried Saúl passionately, “We would never betray our King and country! Our only grievances are against Count de Pérez, who had violated my sister’s virtue and caused her untimely death. That is why Count de Simeone and Lord de Torres have been helping us. Surely you would trust your friends’ judgement.”

 

Señor de Ramos chewed his lips and said nothing. Clearly, his wishes to defend his King’s decision came into conflict with his trust in his friends and his own judgement. He finally relented, “I suppose you do not appear to be conniving traitors to me and I do trust my friend. It is, however, hard for me to believe that our great wise King would make such a misjudgement.”

 

“The King has been deceived by Count de Pérez, who is the master of cunning and conspiracy,” supplied Saúl eagerly, “He is the real evil and culprit behind it all.”

 

“In that case,” said Señor de Ramos solemnly, “I truly regret what has happened and shall happen to you. I wish I have the power to undo the past and alter the future, but alas, I am just a lowly guard. Listen carefully though, for the message from Count de Simeone is of great importance. You must warn your friend, Señor Silva, of potential danger to his person.”

 

“Silva!” exclaimed Villa in shock and he rushed forward to Señor de Ramos, “What of him? How could he in danger? Please do tell!”

 

“Count de Simeone delivered an excellent speech on your behalf, arguing for your innocence,” said Señor de Ramos sadly, “It was a highly moving deliverance and had clearly made an impression on the King, who began to waver. Unfortunately, Count de Pérez stepped forward and informed the King of your relationship with Señor Silva, whose clear Moorish appearance did him no favour at all. Upon receiving this piece of information, the King began to doubt you again. Fortunately, the King has not reached his final opinions. But I am sure you can see the potential danger Señor Silva might be in had the King’s decision been unfavourable.”

 

“Oh sweet Lord,” whispered Villa desperately, “what have I done?”

 

“Count de Simeone and Lord de Torres are both being watched by Count de Pérez’s spies at this moment,” continued Señor de Ramos apologetically, “Neither could leave the court. Even though I have the liberty to make visitations to jails as part of my guard duty, my association with Señor Silva might do him more harm. We shall, of course, try to warn him but please advise him to leave the city as soon as possible the next time he comes to visit.”

 

“Of course we will,” said Villa and he grabbed Señor de Ramos’ hands, his eyes filled with plea, “I know this is too much to ask, for you have risked too much to help us. But please try to warn him! He is the sweetest person one shall ever see and he cannot be harmed, not because of me!”


	13. Period 2 - 1273 AD

One of the positive outcomes from Señor de Ramos’ visit was that it brought Villa out of his previous subdued state. The anger towards Count de Pérez and the concern for his love gave Villa a renewed sense of purpose. Saúl could find him muttering to himself while pacing up and down in their cell. More often though, Villa had decided to channel his feelings via his best means of expression, painting. Thanks to the miraculous medications from Count de Simeone, Saúl’s wounds had finally ceased festering. The pain, however, did not subside. As Saúl drifted in and out of uneasy sleep plagued by pain, he could always see Villa painting fervently, his eyes fixed and his brows furrowed. When Saúl asked what the paintings were about, Villa’s reply was a curt “us”, and Saúl never asked again.

 

To his surprise and immense relief, Saúl had not been summoned by Pepe again. He fathomed that Count de Simeone must have pleaded his case with the King. Under the current circumstance, Saúl would not be so naive as to believe that he and Villa could still be exonerated. His only wishes were to die a dignified death and that Silva would not be implicated. As neither Silva nor Jorge made any visits, Saúl comforted himself with the thoughts that Señor de Ramos had managed to deliver Count de Simeone’s warning in time. He had no way of knowing of course. Yet he hoped for the best, for he could never forgive himself should Jorge or Silva suffer because of him.

 

Another week had passed and Saúl was in his cell one evening when the prison guard came to deliver their daily supper, a lone loaf of bread with some water. Thanks to Count de Simeone, the bread had always been at least fresh. Saúl paid no heed to this daily ritual until he noticed that the guard was a fresh face. Instead of the foul middle-aged man, the new guard was a tall handsome young man who looked entirely too young to be in such an odious place.

 

“Who are you?” barked Villa, as he looked up from his painting long enough to discern the alteration. 

 

The young guard looked slightly startled at the question and possibly the bruteness of Villa’s voice. He blushed, which amazed Saúl, as he did not think someone quite as shy would be suitable for such a job. But he managed to recover himself quickly enough to say, “I am Señor Morata. I am your new guard.” He picked up the wooden tray with the bread and water, passed it through the bar and down on the floor, and gave Saúl a meaningful look, “Here is your supper. The bread is fresh and fine. Please DO be careful and enjoy.”

 

Saúl merely stared at Morata, for he could not understand what he was trying to convey. Morata seemed reluctant to say more though and left without another word. Saúl looked at Villa, who shrugged and grabbed the bread. Once Villa tore it apart though, the meaning of Morata’s words became crystal clear.

 

There was a small folded piece of paper hidden in the bread. Saúl unfolded it eagerly and read it quickly. The note was short but comforting.

 

“Señor R found your friend S and J. Worry not. Both safe. Case to be deliberated in two days.”

 

Saúl passed the note to Villa, who signed with relief after reading it. Saúl understood exactly how Villa felt. Both their loved ones were safe and had been warned. Reading between the lines, Count de Simeone had taken steps to ensure the safety of Jorge and Silva. As for the deliberation of the case, neither entertained any hope in a positive outcome. 

 

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Just as Count de Simeone indicated, the final indictment of the King came in two days’ time. Señor de Ramos was the one to deliver it and Saúl was more than grateful. It was much more pleasant to hear such news from a friendly voice than a hideous one like Pepe’s.

 

“I, Alfonso X, King of Castile, León, and Galicia, hereby deliver my final verdict on the case of Saúl Ñíguez and David Villa. Saúl Ñíguez and David Villa, despite being citizens of the Kingdom of Castile, León, and Galicia, and recipients of my generosity, did knowingly commit high treason and offences against God as Moorish spies. The punishment for such a heinous crime shall be hanging at daybreak.”

 

Señor de Ramos rolled back the document and looked at Saúl and Villa with a penitent expression on his face, “I am sorry. Count de Simeone had tried his best but the King could not be dissuaded.”

 

Saúl felt his voice abandoning him and he could only nod. Despite all his courage and anticipation of such a result, the final reality still astonished and scared him to no end. Villa looked a lot calmer, as he bowed to Señor de Ramos politely, “Thank you for your concern, Señor de Ramos. We all know the inevitability of such a result and have prepared ourselves for it. Please pass our gratitude to Count de Simeone. We truly appreciate all his effort. I take it the execution shall be tomorrow?”

 

Señor de Ramos nodded, “It shall happen tomorrow at daybreak. I am afraid I cannot be there.”

 

“It is quite all fine,” said Villa sincerely, “You have done enough for us.”

 

“I could have done more,” Señor de Ramos shook his head, “But at least I can still do this for you.” With that, he left the room, which surprised both Villa and Saúl. What astounded them more was who Señor de Ramos brought with him when he returned.

 

“David!” exclaimed Villa the moment Silva entered their cell and he rushed forward to embrace his love, “Begone! You should not be here!”

 

“How can I leave without seeing you again!” Silva silenced Villa with a most passionate kiss, which left Saúl’s mouth open in surprise. Before he could say anything though, distraction came in the form of Jorge.

 

“Jorge!” Saúl was beside himself with joy. He had given up hope of seeing his friend again and could not contain his happiness. Jorge said nothing and simply wrapped his arm around Saúl’s shoulders.

 

Señor de Ramos cleared his throat during this joyous reunion and they all looked up.

 

“You have not much time,” said Señor de Ramos seriously, “I shall return in 10 minutes.”

 

Silva nodded in gratitude, “We are forever in your and Lord de Torres’ debt!”

 

Villa grabbed Silva’s hand, “You must flee the city, David. It is too treacherous for you to stay here! I shall never forgive myself should anything happen to you because of me!”

 

Silva smiled sadly, ‘Nothing worse could happen to me now. Losing you is the most severe punishment for me. But rest assured, Señor de Ramos is Lord de Torres’ best friend and he has promised to help us leave the city right after this,” he hesitated, “I am truly sorry Villa, but I cannot bear to stay and watch you…”

 

“No don’t be,” said Villa almost relieved, “I would not want you to see that either. I have just one request…”

 

While Villa and Silva were saying their goodbyes, Saúl’s attention was brought back to Jorge, who shifted uneasily and relinquish his hold on Saúl. Feeling the loss of Jorge’s warmth, Saúl put his arms around Jorge’s waist and buried his head on Jorge’s chest, for that was the only secure place for him right now.

 

“Are you all right?” asked Jorge softly and Saúl wanted to cry. He had never wished for anything so much before but he would give anything he owns to have more time with Jorge.

 

“I wish we had more time,” said Saúl in a muffled voice as Jorge planted a tender kiss on the back of his head, “I am not scared of death. I just regret my stupidity, which had blinded me to your feelings.”

 

“You are never stupid, Saúl,” smiled Jorge fondly and Saúl felt an incredible warmth spreading through him, “You are the brightest and bravest person I have ever met and that is why I am in love with you. I have no regret, for I finally know my feelings are reciprocated and this is more than enough for me. I shall remind myself of that every second of every day, for the rest of my life.”

 

Saúl knew not what to say. So many emotions rushed through his heart that he did the only thing that seemed plausible at the moment. Closing the gap between him and Jorge, Saúl sealed Jorge’s lips with a kiss.

 

Saúl had never kissed anyone before so he knew not what to expect. He could feel Jorge’s lips, warm, plump, and soft, and his hot breaths, so distinctly Jorge yet so familiar. Jorge seemed stunned for a moment but he quickly recovered and kissed Saúl back with great passion. Saúl was soon lost in the kiss until the opening of the door brought him back to reality.

 

“I am afraid it is time.” Señor de Ramos had returned to the cell and Saúl instinctively held onto Jorge even tighter. Jorge’s dark brown eyes bored into his and he kissed him one last time before gently extricating himself from Saúl’s embrace. When he was at the door, however, Jorge turned back to look at Saúl one last time, “Farewell my love! I shall never forget you! May God reunite us in heaven and in our next life!”

 

It took Saúl several hours to recover from the emotional turmoils of the heartfelt farewell from Jorge. Hence he did not notice that Villa’s paintings were gone until then. When he asked Villa about it, Villa simply said, “I have finished my paintings and have entrusted them to Silva. I did not wish our stories to be forgotten. With these paintings saved and passed on, people in the future might learn of us, of how we lived, loved, fought, and stayed true until the very end.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next morning came, faster than Saúl would have liked. Neither he nor Villa could sleep the night before. It felt somehow wrong to spend your last hours on earth in a state of slumber. Neither he nor Villa said anything to each other. They had said their goodbyes to their loved ones, and that was all that mattered.

 

Right before daybreak, the door to their cell was opened and Morata came in.

 

“It is time,” said Morata simply, without any malice. Saúl was relieved that Morata, not Pepe, was the one to escort them to the end of their earthly journeys. Villa rose up from his corner, dusted his rugged robes carefully, and walked out with his head held high. When he passed Morata, he simply nodded at the young guard, who nodded back. Saúl wished he could have Villa’s courage and composure, but he was scared. Despite all his courage and determination, Saúl was, after all, just a young boy. His life had never started and he feared what the next realm might be like. Perhaps sensing his fear, Morata whispered to Saúl in a reassuring voice, “Fear not. I know the executioner. It shall not hurt much and it shall be over soon.” Saúl nodded gratefully but could not utter a single word. Morata seemed to understand his feelings though, as he patted Saúl on the shoulder and guided him out of the cell.

 

The executioner dressed in black offered a sharp contrast to the still misty Toledo morning. He did not seem particularly spiteful and simply nodded to Morata to acknowledge their appearance. The gallows stood lonely in the courtyard of the prison, a gloomy sight to behold. Saúl wondered if Count de Simeone had to wield his influences in court to grant them a private execution, away from jeering crowds and prying eyes, with an at least neutral executioner. He knew he could never repay the debt he owed to the Count in this lifetime and could only wish that their paths might cross again in the next lifetime.

 

Saúl could not pay any attention to the sermon read by the Father. After the noose had been put around his neck, he turned to look at Villa, whose expression could almost be described as serene. Catching Saúl’s eyes, Villa smiled faintly, “This is not the end, my dear cousin. It is just the beginning.” With that, Saúl felt the loss of support beneath his feet, a sharp pain, and the darkness that engulfed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of Story 2. I hope you like it and can see the inspiration from Cloud Atlas. I promise that eventually our boys will get their happy ending, except they do have to wait a while.


	14. Period 3 - 1533 AD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another story! This time it's set in Colonial Perú, at the time when the Inca Empire fell. Again, my history was woeful so please forgive any historical inaccuracies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Inca Empire has always fascinated me since my visit to Perú a couple years ago. Seeing Machu Picchu and the other Inca ruins was a mind-blowing experience for me. But what fascinates me more (in addition to their prodigious masonry) is the belief system of the Inca people. Hopefully I have done it justice in this story. Enjoy.

The salty wind of the sea blew across the  _ Discoverer _ , one of the largest ships in the fleet of Francisco Pizarro, on its way to the new world. For most on board, the wind was a welcoming gift from God, as it propelled the ship in its direction, shortening this long and arduous journey. But for Antoine, it simply meant the onset of another wave of seasickness. He sometimes wondered if he should not have come at all, for he was a mere geologist, not a sailor nor a soldier. At this moment, however, he was a little preoccupied with emptying the content his stomach into the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

 

“How are you feeling Dr Lopes?” the cheerful voice of a young sailor Koke brought a wry smile to Antoine’s ashen face. Despite Antoine’s constant protest, Koke, always modest and kind, insisted upon addressing him as Dr Lopes instead of Antoine. To be fair, Antoine was indeed a most brilliant and precocious scholar, having completed his degree with numerous accomplishments at such a tender age. 

 

“I suppose I shall live,” grimaced Antoine, “thank you for your concern, Koke. But if you do have any remedy for my current predicament, I’d be more than obliged.” 

 

“My apologies, Dr Lopes”, said Koke and his expression rang truth to his words, “I’m afraid we have no cure available on board. Most of us have grown used to the whimsical ways of the sea, having been on numerous trips already. If it is any consolation, my first time on board was equally miserable if not more so. You will grow accustomed to it.” 

 

“How so?” said Antoine a little exasperatedly, after another wave of nausea overcame him, “I am not a sailor Koke. I have not your skills nor your experience. As for getting accustomed to the feeling, I doubt I shall aboard another ship ever again after this dreadful experience.”

 

“But of course you shall!” The approaching footsteps belonged to a man of great self-assurance and very steady sea legs. Sure enough, Antoine and Koke were greeted with the imposing sight of none other than the Captain of the ship, Captain Diego Pablo González. “Your company on this trip is very much valued and appreciated Dr Lopes. As a matter of fact, I had petitioned tirelessly to Señor Pizarro before the onset of the trip, for your presence was much sought after. I shall not lose you to something as frivolous as seasickness.” 

 

Antoine smiled in spite of his current physical discomfort. One of the reasons why Antoine consented to subject himself to such inhuman torture was Captain González, who unlike many of his peers, was more than a mere soldier or sailor. He was a keen reader and a very learned man with a great passion for new discoveries and adventures. When he personally called upon Antoine to persuade him, a close friendship was immediately forged immediately after they started to converse. Even though he was officially a geologist, Antoine’s interests and talents span a wide range of topics, which he rarely had the opportunity to explore fully with even his fellow scholars. With Captain González, however, Antoine found his mind constantly engaged and his ideas frequently challenged. 

 

“Maybe you would be so kind as to concoct something to solve this frivolous problem for me,” Antoine tried his very best to sound lighthearted, “otherwise I am afraid my presence on this ship might be numbered.”

“Unfortunately, I am no great physician,” sighed Captain González in a purposefully dramatic manner, “the only way my concoction might address your problem, I’m afraid, was to free you from your earthly shell yet I doubt you are quite ready for that stage of your journey, are you?”

Antoine chuckled, which he instantly regretted. Koke, who had been silent in the presence of his most revered Captain, took a step forward to steady Antoine. The good-humoured smile on Captain González’s had disappeared and replaced with a concerned look, “Koke, would you be so kind as to fetch Father Esclápez? Antoine, come with me. I shall take you to my cabin where you lie down to get some repose, which shall do you some good to be sure.”

It was not the first time Antoine went inside Captain González’s cabin, for they had spent quite a few nights here having intellectually stimulating conversations together. Antoine, therefore, spared no time in settling himself in his favourite armchair but Captain González beckoned him forward. “Don’t be absurd Antoine. You are unwell. You need your rest. Pray take my bed.”

“But…” Antoine’s protested was cut short. “No argument Antoine. It is no inconvenience at all. Your only duty now is to obey your Captain and hope for a speedy recovery. Now, while your body suffers from the earthly pain, I have something that might engage your mind.” With that, Captain González took out some ancient looking papyrus scrolls that piqued Antoine’s interest at once.

“What are these?” inquired Antoine with great interest.

“Hmm, you may be able to tell me that. I acquired them under most curious circumstances but I have to admit my ancient Greek is tentative at best.”

Antoine smiled. If there was one defect in Captain González’s education, it was the fact that his interest in learning and thus his knowledge was sometimes too limited by practicality. Being a scholar well versed in many modern languages including Latin, Captain González had never shown any inclination towards ancient languages like hieroglyphs or ancient Greek. Fortunately, Antoine could easily remedy the situation; for he could read both with great ease. So he took the document and started scanning through it.

“Well?” prompted Captain González after a while.

“It is some academic teachings about the universe,” said Antoine, his eyes still fixated on the document, reading almost hungrily, “the author Cholius, seems to be a most prominent scholar in Alexandria. This is quite strange for I have never heard of him. The document is most interesting though. I admit I am no expert in astronomy to give a definitive opinion but still…” his voice trailed off as he was once again engrossed in the document. Having achieved his goal, Captain González smiled triumphantly and simply left the room without a word, leaving Antoine to his reading.

The next thing Antoine knew, Captain González had returned to the cabin with some food and the young priest of the ship, Father Esclápez.

“I presume you would be ravenous since the sea has calmed down a bit,” Captain González started laying down food on the table next to the bed. Antoine made a gesture to get up to help but the captain stopped him gently. “Please, the sea is most mercurial. Don’t let its current tranquillity deceive you. I have brought Father Esclápez here so he could examine your condition after supper.”

 

“You are truly a godsend,” Antoine inhaled the smell of the food contently, feeling his appetite returning, “How could I survive without you in this accursed sea! Although I am still jealous that you are not afflicted with this dreadful condition. It surely is unjust for me to suffer alone.”

 

The captain laughed, “I have years of experience in the sea while you have just learned its mighty power. Your pretty face alone cannot tempt God enough to bless you with such immunity.”

 

Grinning broadly at his captain, Antoine was secretly pleased that the captain had found his features appealing. Father Esclápez, however, frowned. “Do not jest lightly about the almighty God. He is most benevolent and just. I sympathise with your plight but surely this is God’s will to test and strengthen your character.”

Antoine almost rolled his eyes but stopped himself when he caught Captain’s González’s knowing and amused look. He really liked Father Esclápez, for he was another person on the ship that Antoine could easily relate to. A young prodigy himself, Father Esclápez was not only a priest but also a promising theologist, which was why it was decided that he was to go to the New World to spread the gospels of God. Even more fortuitous was the fact that Father Esclápez was an able physician as well, having acquired the skills through looking after the poor in his parish. Though Antoine admired his high moral standards, he found the young priest too pious and uptight sometimes. Still, Father Esclápez was a highly honourable man and trusted friend so Antoine would always welcome the prospect of spending more time with him. But the young priest was often found amongst the sailors, particularly Koke, whom he had formed a most unlikely friendship with. Antoine often wondered if it was their shared piety that drew them together.

“If you don’t mind Dr Lopes,” said Father Esclápez dutifully after they finished supper, “I’d like to take your temperature and your pulse.”

“Please my friend,” smiled Antoine, disregarding the previous incident, “although I am feeling much better now. This most intriguing document Captain left me has quite taken my mind away from the earthly tide.”

“Hmm, this would seem so,” said Father Esclápez as he attended Antoine, “this is most wonderful news. If your preoccupation with the document could lessen your focus on the sea, it would be most beneficial for you. I shall leave you some of my own potion that should alleviate the most severe symptoms.”

“So I shall live?” joked Antoine.

“I’m afraid so. Oh, what a bore,” drawled Captain González and the twinkling in his eyes betrayed his good spirit, “We are expected to reach land in another day or two, thanks to the wind.”

“Good!” Antoine almost sighed in relief. “I am glad this ordeal is finally nearing its end. The sooner I shall set foot in unmoving earth, the better.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Just as Captain González predicted, the  _ Discoverer _ reached land in two days’ time. Antoine felt like a new man. So great was his excitement and eagerness to get off the ship that he almost bumped into Captain “El Guaje” Sánchez.

“Watch your steps child,” growled Captain Sánchez and Antoine had to suppress the urge to retort back with some witty response. His feeling towards Captain Sánchez had always been rather conflicted. The Asturian captain was not a captain of the ship, but the captain of the King’s and Queen’s army. Years of military service had hardened not only his appearance but also his heart somewhat. While never a mean petty man, Captain Sánchez possessed Captain González’s commanding authority but lacked his consideration for others. His taciturn nature, short temper and sometimes abrasive manners had managed to earn him more enemies than friends. Indeed there were rumours that he only gained his status and position via his close friendship with Count de Toreno, his patron and childhood friend. But Antoine knew that Captain Sánchez was a devoted Christian who would not hesitate to sacrifice his life to protect them, which had earned him the reluctant respect of everyone on board, despite his personal faults.

“Guaje,” Captain González’s strode towards Antoine and Captain Sánchez with Father Esclápez trailing behind him. Antoine could see Koke working with Captain Sánchez’s soldiers in the background, unloading their armoury from the ship. “Our work is done. We are now at your disposal. I believe Governor Pizarro has entrusted you with full details of his command.”

“Aye,” grunted Captain Sánchez, “We are to march towards the capital, Cuzco. The governor was certain our arrival would seal the fate of the locals once and for all.”

“What is to become of them?” asked Father Esclápez and Captain Sánchez raised an eyebrow. “Why is that of interest to you Father? We shall deal with the locals as we have always done. They shall convert to Christianity or perish for their heresy.”

Father Esclápez shifted rather uncomfortably and Captain González frowned. Even in his weakened state, Antoine was positively livid. “Will they have a chance to be heard this time or shall the fate of Atahualpa be repeated? If this is the true nature of Christianity, I am hardly astonished that the locals are disinclined to convert. Your governor shall be ashamed of his act of deceit and treachery.”

Captain Sánchez smirked, “I have underestimated you, young scholar under Diego’s protection. You seem to have quite an extensive knowledge of the governor’s activities here. While your sympathy for the locals is most affecting, permit me to remind you that they are no more than a group of heretic savages who choose to worship pagan gods, practice barbaric murders in the name of sacrifice, and reject our Lord. The fact that they have paid their ransom is immaterial in the face of such heresy. You have only one mission here young man, to study the features and produces of the land so it may benefit the landlords back home. Leave the rest to our able soldiers. Your petty sentimentality means nothing to me whatsoever.”

Despite his weakened state, Antoine felt a strong surge of rage. Never a very devout Christian, he had never fully grasped the purpose of religious persecution. Captain González put an arm around him, both to stop him and to support him, “Please Antoine, we’re here under the Captain’s command. Do not make your situation worse.” He then turned to Captain Sánchez with a sombre expression, “We appreciate your good judgment Captain and we are to do as you request. Nonetheless, I must ask you to refrain from disparaging my men. I have the highest regard for them and I urge you to do the same.”

Captain Sánchez studied Captain González with a knowing smirk before he simply shrugged and nodded. Once he was out of sight, Antoine exploded in anger, “How could he do this! I thought he was a good man with a sense of honour! But his words are such a disgrace to his title and the name of the King! To tolerate and even take pride in such treacherous behaviour of the governor is just unthink of!”

Captain González sighed, “I have known Captain Sánchez for a long time and trust me, he is not a dishonourable man. He is simply narrow-minded sometimes. And he is not alone in thinking that the locals are little more than mere animals and irrevocably beneath us. We shall, of course, try our very best to help them but we are no soldiers. Pray consider your position. If you go against Captain Sánchez’s will, he could have you arrested and detained on the ship. You are of no use to anyone on that ship.”

Antoine was not utterly convinced. Father Esclápez patted his back soothingly, “Trouble yourself not my friend. I am sure Captain Sánchez harboured no ill will and his intentions are noble. His only wish is to save the unfortunate souls from the clutches of the pagan gods. We must have faith, for he is a man of God.” 

 

Antoine wished he could believe the young priest, who had so much faith in his God. Before he could argue his point more though, Koke came to greet them, having finished his share of labour for the ship. Father Esclápez welcomed the pleasant distraction and the two friends soon departed, deeply engaged in conversation. Antoine sighed and turned to his captain, “I hope Father Esclápez’s faith is not misplaced. So what do you make of the locals, having met them already?”

 

Captain González thought for a moment before answering, “It is rather difficult to say. The last time we came, we had no one well versed in their language. Conversing with them was quite literally impossible. I have to admit their customs are quite different from ours and some of their practices can be rather distressing. I do not deem them unintelligent or inferior though. Quite on the contrary, I regard their knowledge of the world and the universe even superior. Unfortunately, I seem to be the only one of such opinion. So maybe you shall wait to form an opinion yourself.”


	15. Period 3 - 1533 AD

The journey to Cuzco was not an easy one. A lot their fellow companions fell ill to the altitude, making Father Esclápez occupied throughout the journey. Everyone was immensely relieved upon arrival. But their reprieve was short-lived; for Governor Pizarro was ready to conquer the city. Captain Sánchez and his men were sent along with 40 others to fight in a pitched battle in front of the city, under the command of Governor Pizarro’s brother. The rest waited with baited breath for the outcome of the battle.

The news of victory came soon enough and the retreat of the local troops during the night was even more agreeable. Along with the others, Antoine marched into the sacred capital of the Inca Empire the next morning.

The meaning of Captain González’s words was immediately apparent to Antoine. He could not help but marvel at the grandeur of the architecture inside the city. With grandiose size and immaculate masonry, the constructions represented such fine level of human intelligence that Antoine had to agree with Captain González, the masons must possess superior skills in numerous disciplines to achieve such accomplishments.

While he was marvelling at the design of the city, Antoine could not help but notice the chaotic scenes around him. The soldiers were plundering the city without any sense of prohibition. He could see soldiers walking around with numerous golden chains on their person. Others were dismantling the temples with great enthusiasm.

“This is utter madness!” muttered Antoine, clearly mortified by his fellow countrymen’s behaviour. “Such ignominies! Oh Diego, what are we to do to help those poor souls?”

“Do not let any pagans get away!’ Captain Sánchez’s shouting could be heard even above all the chaos in the city, “Go to the temple and round up all the high priests. None shall escape the justice of our Almighty Lord!”

 

“This is not just,” muttered Father Esclápez, clearly distressed, “This is no God’s will.”

“We must stop them!” cried Koke with vehemence, his usually calm demeanour flustered. “We need to get to the temple before the massacre starts!”

“Indeed we must,” nodded Captain González gravely, “Come, make haste!”

So they pushed through the mad crowd, half plundering soldiers half fleeing locals, and made their way to the most sacred temple of all, Inti Kancha, the Temple of the Sun. Fortunately, they were the first to arrive. The door of the temple was unlocked as if the residents inside had resigned to their fate. Rush forward, Antoine got inside.

The temple was grandiose in size with a sacred majestic atmosphere. Once the heavy wooden door was closed, the chaos of the outside world was silenced, no longer relevant. Antoine and the group watched in amazement as the priests in the temple continued their daily routine as if nothing had changed. The priests were dressed in intricately made robes of alpaca wool and the looks on their face were so calm and pious that it was a stark contrast to Antoine and his groups’ air of unrest.

“Excuse me,” Antoine opened his mouth hesitantly, partly because he felt guilty of disrupting the peace with the temple, partly because he wasn’t sure if he could be understood at all, “but you must leave now.”

Upon his words, all the priests stopped their rituals and turned to Antoine, their gaze eerily calm and unperturbed. Antoine switched uncomfortably, quite unaccustomed to such sudden silent attention. The silence was broken by the priest standing in the high altar in the very centre of the temple, who judging by the finest and most elaborate robe he was wearing must be the high priest of the temple, as he descends slowly and gracefully from the altar. His statue was quite short, which was not unusual for the residents of the high plateaus, but surprisingly slender. The countenance on his face could only be described as serene. In fact, had it not been for his dark complexion and somewhat exotic features, he could very well pass for a nobleman or priest of the Kingdom. When he opened his mouth though, Antoine near fell to the ground in astonishment.

“My dear friends of the far west,” the Spanish of the high priest was heavily accented but nonetheless very impressive, “welcome to this sacred Temple of the Sun, where you shall bask in her eternal glory and almighty power.”

“How…?” Koke’s flabbergasted expression was reflected on everyone’s face.

“I have dedicated my time to learning your mother tongue,” said the high priest calmly, “ever since the very first arrival of your people.”

“Honourable high priest,” Antoine regained his composure and addressed the high priest in an urgent tone, “We are not familiar with your customs so please forgive our manners. But you must leave now, along with all your priests. Otherwise, you will all be subjected to unspeakable cruelty.”

“My dear friend, for your honesty and your bravery, I applaud you,” the countenance on the high priest’s face changed not one bit. “Please address me by my name, Apu Siva. Your warnings and concerns are very much appreciated. But it matters not what they shall do to us.” The high priest, Apu Siva’s eyes rested on the small golden cross in front of Father Esclápez’s chest and smiled, “I take that you are a man of your God. You must then understand one’s dedication to his own God. I was born a servant of the Sun God and I have lived my whole life as one. I shall not flee and abandon my God when I am most needed.”

“If they capture you, they will torture you with the cruellest methods known to men before you are executed,” Captain González pressed, “If you leave now, you can still live and serve your God elsewhere.” Next to him, Antoine could feel Father Esclápez shifting uncomfortably. Clearly, his faith had come into conflict with his moral stance on the current situation. To Antoine’s surprise though, he remained silent and chose not to object to the captain’s words.

“Our body is nothing but an earthly shell,” said Apu Siva, as he started burning offerings in the nearby altar, “throughout our history, men and women fortunate enough to have been chosen have united with the Gods after free their souls from their earthly shackle. If the end of my life on this earth is impending, I shall welcome it with open arms.”

Before neither Antoine nor Captain González could persuade Apu Siva any further, the closed door to the temple was crashed open and the rogue soldiers filed in, led by none other than Captain Sánchez. Antoine gasped and Captain González closed his eyes, as if unwilling to witness the coming act of cruelty.

“Waste not your time!” barked Captain Sánchez. “You have been surrounded and resistance is futile. Come forward! Denounce your pagan gods and kneel before the holy cross. Embrace Christianity and you may be spared. Continued loyalty to your God shall only bring you pain and death.”

Father Esclápez, who had been silent until now, took an involuntary step between Captain Sánchez’s soldiers and the priests. Koke hesitated for a split second before joining him. Captain Sánchez was rather cross at this unforeseen obstacle. “What have we here? A man of the Lord standing between Christianity and the pagans? Have you not sense of honour and loyalty to the Almighty God? Maybe priesthood missuited on you. Or you have been fraternising with the wrong sort.” He gave Antoine a long hard look, who returned the captain’s gaze with a fiery glare, not yielding to the challenge. Sensing the tension and the potential danger Antoine was in, Captain González took a step forward, shielding Antoine from Captain Sánchez and said in a low warning tone, “Guaje.”

“I am not standing between them and Christianity,” said Father Sánchez in an angry voice, “I am standing between them and you! I have traversed the ocean and land to spread the gospel of our Lord. My heart is most pure and devoted. What I cannot stand is the travesty committed in the name of our Lord, right in front of my eyes! Has our Lord not told us to be merciful? Has he not commanded us not to kill? You cannot question my piety simply because I am trying to stop this act of cruelty.”

“Such naivety!” cried Captain Sánchez in disbelief. “If they are not our friends, they shall be our enemy. Any mercy towards your enemy is an act of cruelty towards your fellow men.”

Before Father Esclápez could retort back though, a most gentle touch on his shoulder made him turn around. High priest Apu Siva was standing behind him, his arms folded across his chest. When he caught Father Esclápez’s eyes, he simply nodded as a sign of recognition and gratitude, before raising his head high to face Captain Sánchez.

In the next split second, a most peculiar thing happened. It was swift enough that Antoine wondered if anyone but himself had discerned it. The countenance on Captain Sánchez’s face altered almost imperceptibly. The usual look of ill humour was replaced with that of surprise and, unless Antoine was very much mistaken, that of awe. This was so uncharacteristically Sánchez that Antoine almost positive that it was no more than a mere phantasm. 

 

High priest Apu Siva seem not mindful of this. He simply locked his eyes with Captain Sánchez and said in a most self-possessed manner, “Captain, I have no wish to cause any inconvenience to the young Father. He speaks from his heart, which is pure and chaste.”

 

“You speak Spanish?” asked Captain Sánchez incredulously.

 

High priest Apu Siva smiled, “The language and the culture of a foreign country are no threat to us. I consider it my duty to my people and my Gods to learn as much of our world as possible.”

 

Captain Sánchez hesitated, which Antoine regarded as a good sign, before announcing in an authoritative tone, “Father Esclápez is a servant of God, who shall be absolved from any offences. You and your priests, however, shall be incarcerated until the Governor reaches a verdict on your fate.”

 

High priest Apu Siva simply nodded before turning to his priests. Silently, all of them descended from their altars and walked quietly towards Captain Sánchez’s soldiers. Amazed by their composure, the soldiers bore no signs of aggression when they guided the priests out of the temple. Captain Sánchez stepped in front of high priest Apu Siva and seized his wrist, “You shall be detained with me. A man of your position, surely some extra precaution shall not hurt.”

 

“It matters not where my body stays,” said high priest Apu Siva without a trace of trepidation, “My soul will not be shackled.”

 

Antoine exchanged a worried look with Father Esclápez; for answering Captain Sánchez in such a manner was never recommended. Nevertheless, Captain Sánchez seemed not to take offence and simply nodded to high priest Apu Siva before taking his arm and leading him out of the temple. Koke let out a long-held sigh of relief, “I swear I thought high priest Apu Siva was lost forever.”

 

“Hardly,” smiled Captain González, “Although I doubt high priest Apu Siva shall escape the inevitable fate waiting for him, this may transpire to be the making of Guaje.”

 

Antoine looked at Captain González and realised that his Captain, ever observant and perceptive, discerned the same change in Captain Sánchez’s sentiments towards high priest Apu Siva. Hoping with all his heart that his Captain was right, Antoine patted Koke on the back and the group vacated the temple like everyone else did.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next day passed in the same manner as the previous one. Antoine could tell that the looting and the destruction of the city deeply disturbed Father Esclápez. He could be seen in Koke’s company constantly, looked distressed while his friend comforted him. Antoine could hardly blame him; for he knew the young priest to be a peaceful and pious young man who deemed it his life’s mission to uphold the highest moral standards, both for himself and for those around him. The lawless and even downright deplorable behaviours of Captain Sánchez’s soldiers were deeply troublesome to not only Father Esclápez but even for a sailor like Captain González. 

 

“Will Captain Sánchez not stop them?” asked Koke indignantly after witnessing a soldier dragging a hapless elderly Inca woman from her house, “Surely his honour would not approve such behaviours.”

 

Captain González sighed, “I have known Guaje for a long time and I would normally vouch for his character and honour. I have yet lost hope in that. One rumour I did hear is that Guaje has not been seen outside of his temporary abode for quite some time.”

 

“That was most uncharacteristic of him,” exclaimed Antoine in astonishment, “I have long perceived the captain to be a man of action rather than words. What on earth could have occupied so much of his time to prevent him from carrying out his duties,” Antoine pronounced the last word with such contempt that it earned him a smirk from Captain González.

 

“It is most peculiar”, mused Koke, “Is high priest Apu Siva not with him?”

 

Father Esclápez jumped almost at once, “This cannot be! Surely he is not torturing the high priest! He has no ground nor authority.”

 

“Please compose yourself, Father,” said Captain González solemnly, “You shall be careful what you utter. Although none of us shall ever betray your trust, the servants in this place are brought by Guaje. Lest your word get you into real trouble, for Guaje has both the ground and the authority to,” he hesitated, pondering his choice of words carefully so as not to aggravate the young priest any further, “convert high priest Apu Siva to Christianity using any means necessary. Should he succeed, he shall be most handsomely rewarded, for the high priest enjoys immense popularity and influence amongst the locals.”

 

“Such a job should be placed with me, not the brute captain,” Father Esclápez seemed beside himself with anger, “He is not a man of God, no matter what he claims.”

 

“That is precisely why I must implore you to control yourself,” Captain González’s tone was most earnest, “Losing your temper at Guaje will not help the locals. On the contrary, it will only give him grounds to exclude you for he doubts your commitment to the work at hand. Would you rather have the locals at the mercy of Guaje’s soldiers? Because it looks increasingly like an inevitability.”

 

Father Esclápez opened his mouth yet no words came out. He let out a frustrated sigh and hung his head in shame. Koke wrapped a comforting hand around his friend’s shoulders and gave his captain a most unusual reproachful look. 

 

“What are we to do then?” asked Antoine, looking at his most trusted friend and captain.

 

Captain González contemplated the matter for a while before saying, “I cannot guarantee anything but I do not believe that Guaje is torturing high priest Apu Siva. He most certainly is spending a lot of time with him, so much that he is loosening his reign on his soldiers. Yet unless I am very much mistaken, his feeling towards high priest Apu Siva is not that of contempt nor hatred. It was more of a curiosity and intrigue.”

 

“But it matters not his personal feeling towards the high priest though, does it?” Father Esclápez was not reassured, “If it is his job to convert the high priest, who from our brief encounter would rather die than abandon his beliefs, Captain Sánchez will have no choice but to torture him into submission or execute him.”

 

Captain González sighed, “I have no doubt about high priest Apu Siva’s eventual fate. He is no fickle man and simply too prominent to be spared. My only wish is for his death to be a swift and dignified one.”

 

“Can we not pay him a visit?” said Koke tentatively while holding the hand of his friend. Father Esclápez gave him a most gracious smile, “After all, Father Esclápez is a man of God. Surely Captain Sánchez shall find no objection to his help.”

 

Captain González seemed torn with indecision. His eyes fixed on Father Esclápez, who returned his gaze with a most stoic expression, the captain finally relented, “Very well. You can go on the morrow. Tell Guaje that I have sent you. Antoine, please go with them. Amongst you all, I expect you to have the most sense not to do anything foolish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know who high priest Apu Siva is. Apu means "God" in Quechua, the language of Inca Empire. Siva doesn't mean anything but I feel (hope) that it sounds Quechuan.


	16. Period 3 - 1533 AD

Antoine was not entirely certain why, but he brought all his scrolls and books with him when they went to visit high priest Apu Siva the next day. Perhaps because he had sensed a kindred spirit in the high priest and presumed that what brought him comfort could ease the pain and suffering of the high priest.

 

To Antoine’s great relief, the guards did not question their motives nor authority and they were brought to the room of high priest Apu Siva almost immediately. It was also somewhat disconcerting, for Antoine expected more objections on Captain Sánchez’s side. Was it possible that the captain had already broken the high priest and had what he wanted? Antoine could see the look of disquiet in Father Esclápez’s grey eyes and he hastened to follow up with the guards, fearing the worst.

 

The room they were brought into, however, did not seem particularly menacing. It was a simple one, with no lavish decoration. The furniture inside was basic and scarce but it was clean and bright, with the beautiful Andes sunlight pouring in through the large open windows. In the middle of the room, in front of a large writing desk, sat high priest Apu Siva, dressed in a plain but clean robe. He was clearly writing something but the arrival of his guests brought a genuine smile to his face. As he rose up from his seat most gracefully to greet them, he seemed like his usual elegant self, with no sign of fatigue nor trouble. The only blemish on his body, in fact, was the ink spot on his hand.

 

Antoine sighed with relief. He had half feared that he might find the high priest’s bloodied tortured body lying unconscious in a dungeon (even though he knew perfectly well that the seismic activities in the Andes regions made it impossible to build a dungeon). But judging by the current conditions, the high priest might have been held prisoner, but he was not mistreated in any way.

 

“Good day high priest Apu Siva,” bowed Father Esclápez while the high priest hurried forward to stop him.

 

“Please my dear friend,” said high priest Apu Siva in an earnest tone, “No formality is needed in my presence. My days as the spiritual leader of this city has long gone.”

 

“Yet my respect for you has not diminished in the slightest,” Father Esclápez clapped his hands around high priest Apu Siva’s, “How have you been? Has the captain…”

 

“The captain has questioned me,” replied the high priest with a calm tone, “and he has tried very hard to distil some Christian doctrines in me. Though I find your religion fascinating, I am afraid I cannot regard it with anything more than academic curiosity. I certainly have no wish to abandon mine.”

 

Next to Antoine, Koke almost flinched, “Please do tell me you said no such thing to Captain Sánchez.”

 

High priest Apu Siva smiled, “When a man has nothing to fear like I do, he can afford to speak his mind. But fret not my dear friend, Captain Sánchez did not take offence with my stubbornness. He was disappointed without doubt, but not offended.”

 

Antoine was more than puzzled. This was not the Captain Sánchez they knew, who could be affronted at the smallest slight. Koke was equally bewildered, “I understand not. I thought captain Sánchez bore a deep-rooted animosity of non-Christian faith. Delighted though I am, I find it highly irregular that you have not been subjected to, well, more harsh questioning.”

 

“Oh, question not his piety,” said high priest Apu Siva earnestly, “he was most disheartened when I refused to convert. But he had managed to show no aggression towards me. His manners may not be the most forbearing and his temper begs improvement. But since my arrival here, he has treated me with courtesy and dignity, which is more than I could ask for.”

 

Father Esclápez was not entirely convinced, “Was that pen and paper for your confession? Did he force you to write down your so-called offences?”

 

“That was the original intention,” the high priest chose his words thoughtfully, “but after I have made it clear that I could only pledge myself to my Gods, the captain no longer insisted upon it. Instead, he was agreeable to me using them to record my own thoughts. Of course, whatever I put down on paper would be read by the captain first and I am not certain what is to become of them. But I am grateful that the captain at least permitted me this chance. I was in the middle of some work on the cosmos you see. And I would rather like to continue and even finish it if time and luck are on my side.”

 

Antoine perked up at once at the admission. He was glad to be of any help to the high priest, whose sincere and graceful nature had captivated him entirely. Seeing that his power was limited in the physical realm, Antoine was more than delighted to be able to provide the high priest with some intellectual assistance.

 

“This work of yours on the cosmos,” said Antoine with poorly concealed enthusiasm, “would it need some assistance?”

 

“That alas my friend would be extremely appreciated. Forgive me for some personal pride, but despite my rather sharp mind, I am concerned that I have reached a standstill in my research.” The looks in Apu Siva’s dark eyes could only be described as wistful. “Had my situation be different, I would persist in my pursuit of knowledge a bit longer. But given the current circumstance, I have not much time so any help would be highly appreciated. Have you studied the cosmos yourself?”

 

Exchanging a quick look with Father Esclápez, Antoine handed the prized manuscript from Cholius and Antonius to Apu Siva, “I am no expert in matters of the cosmos. But this manuscript might be of use to you. It was authored by the most celebrated scholars of the matter from Alexandria and acquired it quite by chance. I have attempted my hand at translating them into Spanish so you should be able to read them with little difficulty. If you indeed encounter some, I shall be more than delighted to render my help. But do take heed my friend. The manuscript is hard to come by and not the most orthodox in the eyes of the Christians.”

 

Apu Siva caressed the precious manuscript with his slender fingers before holding them to his chest and bowing, “Words cannot express my gratitude for your gift and trust. Rest assured my friend, I shall treat it with utmost care and caution. Whatever my fate, I shall return it to you, unharmed and whole.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The moment Antoine was in Captain González’s company again, he lost no time in retelling their meeting with the high priest to his most trusted friend and mentor. He knew his scepticism was badly concealed yet he simply could not fathom the motivation behind Captain Sánchez’s altered (albeit for the better) behaviour.

 

“After all his threatening words, Captain Sánchez seemed not to even have questioned the high priest too harshly. What is the meaning of this? Is he trying to lure the high priest into a sense of security with the hope of lowering the high priest’s guard so he could strike again?”

 

Captain González had listened attentively to Antoine’s story and questions while remaining almost impassive, if only slightly pensive. Knowing his captain too well, Antoine waited patiently for his response.

 

“I doubt that Guaje is playing any tricks,” said Captain González after some long deliberation, “It is not in his nature to play the game of subtlety. If the situation calls for it desperately, Guaje may muster up enough finesse in his actions but that is rather rare. Moreover, underestimate not the high priest. He may appear peaceful and quiet. Yet one can never reach his level of prestige and power without sharp mental faculties not just in the theoretical realm but also the social domain. Despite his young age, the high priest has been groomed for this role his entire life and can be no stranger to the politics of the court and the cult. The idea that Guaje could outmanoeuvre him is also laughable. I doubt Guaje, who despite his many faults is not an insensible person, would even attempt that.”

 

Antoine was genuinely confused now. With no exterior motivation, Captain Sánchez’s uncharacteristically civil attitude towards the high priest simply could not be accounted for.

 

“Have you considered the possibility,” Captain González pondered over his words very cautiously, “that maybe Guaje holds no grudge nor ill will and is indeed being genuinely courteous towards the high priest.”

 

That almost elicited a laugh from Antoine, “Captain Sánchez, courteous towards a heathen. Impossible. That would be such a laugh surely.”

 

“I know you hold no high opinion of Guaje,” replied Captain González calmly, “Given his past behaviour, I fault you not for thinking so. Yet Guaje is not incapable of change. I have observed his interaction with the high priest most closely and I think I could detect a change of altitude after he was in the high priest’s presence. You cannot argue that the high priest is a quiet but extremely charismatic person who inspires loyalty and respect amongst others, even his adversaries.”

 

“That I do not doubt surely,” replied Antoine almost immediately, “I have to confess I have no such faith in Captain Sánchez though.”

 

“Prejudice has blinded you, my dear friend,” sighed the captain, though rather fondly, “Let us not trouble ourselves for now when everything seems in order. I am sure your visit has brought joy to the high priest and the manuscript will be a wonderful distraction. Only time shall tell us what will happen next.”

 

Antoine nodded, “Very well, I shall try to remain calm. Will you secure another visit for us though?”

 

“Maybe in a week’s time.”

 

“A week?” Exclaimed Antoine, “That is an awfully long time and anything could have…”

 

“Nothing would have happened,” said Captain González in a soothing voice, “Guaje would not harm the high priest. I shall make sure of that. For you to repeatedly call on him though, would not do the high priest any favour. I shall speak to Guaje to see if an earlier visitation may be possible but please my dear friend, stay calm. It pains me to see you so agitated.”

 

Antoine took a deep breath and locked his eyes with Captain González’s green ones. He had always found the older man’s eyes most captivating, with the colour changing with his thoughts and emotions. Right now, they were almost the colour of steely grey, a colour of determination and will, which Antoine had learned to drew comfort from. He nodded and flashed his signature smile at his friend. The effect on his friend was so immediate that Antoine almost had to reprimand himself for basking in the glory of his power over the older man. Captain González’s stance relaxed almost instantly and without realising it, a subtle smile crept up his usually serious face and reached his eyes, changing them back to the usual green colour. The captain raised a hand towards Antoine’s face but eventually settled on his shoulder. Antoine had to bite down an inward groan but the Captain’s words were most tender, “Have faith, my dear Antoine. I shall not disappoint you.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

With Captain González’s promise in mind, Antoine tried his best to put himself and Father Esclápez at ease in the next several days. The latter proved to be a daunting task, for the father had been summoned by the commander of the troops to propagate Christian doctrine amongst the locals. This had taken a toll on the young priest and Antoine could see his energy and fervour began to wane. Koke was deeply troubled by the mental state of his friend yet it seemed like nothing could be done.

 

“I mind not preaching sermons and spreading the words of God,” said Father Esclápez in a weary tone when Antoine inquired after his health, “Though the work is taxing, it is my duty and I find it most fulfilling. What troubles me is the visitations to the cells, where all the local high officials and priests are held. I could never fathom such cruelty done in the name of God. The conditions are appalling and they have been subjected to, to…” he stammered, clearly overwhelmed by emotions. Koke wrapped his arm around the young priest, caressing his side in a soothing manner, which seemed to calm the father down. “I have seriously considered taking my leave of the whole sordid affair but I could not. They are relieved and even pleased to see me because any time spent with me is a respite for them. I could not refuse them this little comfort, given their unfortunate situations. So God forgives me I have lied for them. I have prolonged my sessions with them as much as possible to spare them the worse. O how I have sinned. I have used our Lord to help the heathens.”

 

“You have done the most honourable thing!” Koke turned the almost distraught young priest around to face him. When Father Esclápez refused to meet his eyes, Koke lifted his friend’s chin and looked him straight in the eye. “You are my most dear friend and you have the heart of gold. Never doubt your heart, my dear friend! They have been in the wrong, not you! All the things you have done, the rules you have broken, the lies you have told, they are not to be condemned but celebrated, for you have done them for the greater good. You did not do it for personal gain. They are sacrifices you have made. Our Lord, the most loving and merciful, shall sure understand and forgive you.”

 

Father Esclápez sighed and held his friend’s hands to his chest, “Thank you, my dear friend! It just pains me to lie but I understand the compromises we shall have to make in life now. No matter how I detest it, I have to persevere for their sake. I shall stay strong and play my part. You are a most sincere and true friend. I shall always think of your words and draw strength from them when my courage fails me.”

 

“You shall always have my support,” Koke proclaimed solemnly, “I shall never leave your side. That is a promise I make to you and to God.”

 

Antoine could see how this journey had changed himself and his friends. No longer was he the fresh-faced, bright yet incredibly naive priest who had led a sheltered life away from the harsh realities of the world, his friend had morphed into a truly courageous man. He smiled fondly at them and was pleased to see Father Esclápez returning his smile.

 

“I have to say I am now grateful that Captain Sánchez has the high priest,” said Father Esclápez, “Though I hardly approve of his attitude and ideas, he seems to treat the high priest with honour and respect, does he not?”

 

“Most certainly,” Antoine assured his friends at once, “Captain González had conversed with Captain Sánchez not a day before, inquiring after the wellbeing of the high priest. Captain Sánchez assured him that despite being a captive, the high priest has not been mistreated in any way. He even assented to us visiting the high priest again.”

 

“That is a relief! I shall be more than delighted to pay them a visit soon. O how I long to see the face of a friend not suffering from the cruelty and injustice of our arrival! Will the day after the morrow be agreeable to you?”


	17. Period 3 - 1533 AD

For Antoine, the day for the visit could not come soon enough. He had wished Captain González could accompany them, as the Captain’s strong presence had brought him peace and strength. But the captain’s service was requested elsewhere so Antoine had to content himself with Father Esclápez and Koke’s company. Father Esclápez set out with a high spirit though and Antoine could hardly fault him. The prospect of seeing a friend was much more appealing than interrogating prisoners whose only vice was their faith.

 

This time, the guards seemed to recognise them and led them straight to the high priest’s room. Antoine regarded this as a good sign but before he could knock on the heavy wooden door, the noises inside the room made him stop.

 

Although it was hard to discern the exact words, the tones of the conversation were hard to misjudge. Captain Sánchez’s shouting intermingled with the lower but no less firm response from the high priest. Antoine looked at his friends in alarm, “Is the captain questioning the high priest? Shall we force our way in? Surely the high priest needs our help!”

 

“And enter the room unannounced?” Father Esclápez was equally concerned but he had not allowed that to cloud his judgment, “That is no proper way to conduct ourselves. Furthermore, we could hardly force the door open. Let us not be rash. Maybe it is a mere discussion.”

 

Antoine scoffed. Of course, Captain Sánchez was not known for his patience and was prone to outbursts of anger. Nevertheless, given the delicate situation the high priest was in, Antoine believed that his fear was fully justified. Who was to say the captain could contain his temper? What if he had decided to take out his anger not just via words, which was never his forte, but also via more physical means. Sensing his discomfort, Koke proposed a solution, “Perhaps we could listen at the door and understand the nature of their, er, verbal exchange. Then if the situation warrants it, we shall intervene on the high priest’s behalf.”

 

Father Esclápez sighed, “Heaven forbid. Now I have to resort to eavesdropping.”

 

Koke put a soothing hand on his arm, “Desperate times my friend.”

 

“Very well,” the young priest pressed himself against the door and his friends soon followed suit. Fortunately, Koke was quite right. They could now, with some difficulty, make out the majority of the conversation.

 

“I have expressed my mind on the matter numerous times captain,” the high priest’s usual calm voice was bordering on exasperation, “It has not changed and I fear it never will. Please, let me live out the rest of my days in peace.”

 

“Do you not comprehend?” exclaimed Captain Sánchez, his voice filled with not anger but frustration, “The governor shall spare no one and my influence is limited. I cannot spare you from this terrible fate!”

 

“Indeed I understand the situation perfectly,” the high priest was not fazed by this terrible truth, “Yet I shall meet my fate with dignity and a clear conscience. For me to forgo my faith is forever worse than death, which is just the beginning of another journey. I shall be rejoiced by the prospect of entering our Gods company.”

 

A loud thud noise on the wall startled all three of them and Antoine nearly let out a scream. Unless he was very much mistaken though, the captain had just punched the door. His own astonishment was mirrored in shocked look in Father Esclápez’s eyes. How was this possible? The short-tempered, volatile captain was to refrain himself from hurting his prisoner, even at the expense of his own physical pain.

 

The voice of the high priest was clearer this time and the change of tone was noticeable.A trace of warmth and care could be detected underneath that dignified voice. Antoine could imagine the high priest coming to the captain’s side, trying to comfort him. “Please do not presume that I am oblivious to your help. You have sheltered me, from a fate many times worse than that of my fellow believers. For that, I am truly grateful.”

 

“I can only do so much,” the captain’s voice was much lower this time, filled with pain and helplessness, “I have not the power to even prevent you from further suffering. Time is running out. If I cannot convert you, I am to hand you over and God knows what will become of you.”

 

“How long do I have?”

 

“Maybe a fortnight.”

 

“A blink of the eye then,” the high priest was serene, possibly with a faint smile on his face, “My only wish is that I shall have enough time to decipher the mystery of the cosmos. Do you believe in fate? That our fate is written in the stars. I have always been in awe of the power of the universe, its vastness and unknowable abyss, the darkness that engulfs all. What would I not give to unlock its hidden cyphers! I can sense that I am close. But time is not on my side, is it?”

 

“Then will you convert, just to buy yourself more time?” the captain’s voice was filled with newly-found hope, “I care not if you change your heart or not. All I am asking is a pretence. Something I can give to Governor Pizarro to argue your case. Who knows. He might be merciful enough to spare your life even.”

 

“I am truly sorry,” and the high priest sounded like it too, “but to lie and abandon my fate, pretence or not, is worse than death to me. I have no fear of death nor torture. Every pain inflicted upon my earthly shell is proof to my Gods that I have remained faithful and pure. If I cannot solve the mystery of the universe, it surely is the will of the Gods that it shall remain hidden, only to be discovered by the future believers. Please my friend, if I may be permitted to address you so, do not try to persuade me further. Nothing in this world could convince me to change my mind.”

 

“What about me?” Captain Sánchez burst out in great anguish, “What about the sufferings of my heart? What about the pain I have to endure when I watch you, my one and only, being taken away from me, being tortured to death? You cannot do this to me, after I have abandoned my beliefs and my God for you, after all I’ve done for you to keep alive! I would rather die than watch you suffer! You cannot subject me to this fate, of eternal loneliness and despair!”

 

Antoine clasped his hand to his mouth. He could not believe what he had just heard. Captain Sánchez, the most devoted Christian and proud soldier, had broken down in tears after confessing his love for a pagan high priest. Of all people in this world, Captain Sánchez was the last one he could ever imagine to give his heart to high priest Apu Siva. Yet he remembered their first meeting, the change in Captain Sánchez’s face. Maybe it was not so inconceivable after all. Maybe it was the power of fate, where two souls so different were so destined to be with each other. Father Esclápez’s beautiful grey eyes were filled with tears too, clearly overcome with emotion. Wordlessly Koke embrace his friend and the young priest leaned into Koke while the sailor pressed gentle kisses to his temple.

 

“Oh Guaje,” cried the high priest, his voice constricted with emotion, “Do not think I am ignorant of your feelings. How could I? I have pledged my heart and soul to my Gods but everything has changed since I have met you. Please know this, that I have given my heart to you and you only. I wish we could have met at a better time, where I could get to know you more, spend more time with you. But I have no regret. Fate has brought you to me and I shall cherish every single moment I get to spend with you. Those memories shall be my strength when my inevitable fate comes. But please forgive me for I cannot give you what you truly desire. Despite my love for you, I cannot abandon my faith, for I will not be who I am if I do.”

 

The captain’s sobs were even audible through the heavy wooden door. Antoine had to wipe away tears from his face that he did not even realise were there. He missed his captain more than ever. The huddled frame of Father Esclápez and Koke made him yearn to be held by his captain’s strong arms, to have soothing calm words spoken to him by his captain’s low voice, to be reassured by his captain that everything was going to be fine, that he had nothing to fear and nothing to dread. Without a word, Antoine bolted towards the entrance, heading home to his captain, where he truly belonged.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Captain González was more than alarmed when Antoine crashed into his study without so much as a knock, tears streaking down his face.

 

“What is the matter, my friend?” The captain’s voice was tinged with concern as he quickly vacated his seat to embrace his clearly distraught young friend. When Antoine said nothing but continued sobbing into Captain González’s shirt, the captain grew even more anxious. “Pray tell me what is wrong. Perhaps I can be of some help. It pains me to see you so distressed.”

 

When Antoine met the inquiring gaze of the captain, his eyes were not their usual sky blue but the shade of the deep ocean, which reflected his internal turmoil as he struggled to form coherent sentences to express his feelings. Sensing his inner torment, the captain did the only thing that came to his mind at the moment: he pressed a gentle kiss to the younger scholar’s forehead while rubbing soothing circles on his slender back. “It is quite all right. Take your time my friend. I am going nowhere and always at your disposal.”

 

Antoine could not help the rush of tears in his eyes upon hearing the kind and understanding words of his captain. Locked in the strong arms of the older man, he felt secure and at peace, for the first time since he set foot in this foreign land. Not willing to forego his little sanctuary to confront his conflicting emotions and the harsh reality, Antoine simply buried his head in the broad chest of his captain, breathing in the masculine smell of tobacco, the salty sense of the sea, so ingrained in the older sailor captain that it was prominent even off the ship, well-oiled leather, and faint trace of gunpowder - a combination of odors that he instinctively associated with his captain and drew comfort from.

 

Once Antoine had recovered from the overwhelming emotions from previous events of the day, he took a deep breath to compose himself and looked up. Captain González had clearly sensed the change of emotions too and smiled down at him when his fingers continued threading through Antoine’s light brown locks in a soothing manner. He had chosen to remain silent, asking no questions and simply waiting for Antoine to speak in his own time.

 

“I went to visit the high priest earlier in the morrow,” Antoine’s voice was deeper than his usual chirpy tone, “We had not meant to intrude, but chance had it that we overheard a, well, discussion between Captain Sánchez and the high priest.”

 

Captain González studied the expression on Antoine’s face with the utmost attention. No trace of anger or indignation could be found. Instead, it was filled with sorrow. The captain sighed. Having befriended Captain Sánchez a long time ago, Captain González enjoyed the seasoned soldier’s confidence more than anyone else. Hence he was not entirely oblivious to the quickly evolving relationship between the soldier captain and the high priest. Despite his sympathy towards his friend’s dilemma and the unjust fate of the high priest, there was little Captain González could do and he dreaded the moment he had to bring the harsh reality to his younger friend.

 

“Captain Sánchez was trying to persuade the high priest to convert so as to avoid his execution, which is most unjust,” continued Antoine, the sadness most pronounced in his voice, “Yet the high priest would not yield. Oh Diego, what breaks my heart is not even the cruel fate of the high priest, but rather the, the…” he struggled to find the appropriate word, “the deep attachment between them. I have never… I mean it has not once crossed my mind that they would form any sort of well, understanding,” stuttered Antoine, “this is simply unfathomable yet so very heartbreaking.”

 

Holding Antoine even closer to him, Captain González sighed, “Fate is a most fickle friend, for it can bring us joy and desolation at the same time. I am more than delighted for Guaje, for he has found his heart’s desire. I have observed their interactions most closely and I doubt not either of their attachment. Yet I know not how to help them, for their destinies are not within our hands.” He looked at Antoine’s tear-stricken face with a pained expression, “I am truly sorry I cannot put your mind at ease. It pains me so to see you this distressed.”

 

“Then what can we do for them?” asked Antoine in an almost dejected tone, so different from his usual cheery disposition.

 

“We keep them company,” said Captain González in a determined tone, “If we have no power to prevent or even postpone the high priest’s ultimate demise, we shall help him and Guaje cherish every single day they still have left. When that fateful day finally approaches, we stay strong for them and stay by their side.”


	18. Period 3 - 1533 AD

Antoine had rarely doubted his captain’s good sense. He, therefore, heeded his advice and spent as much of as his leisure time with the high priest as possible. Despite his terrible concern for the high priest, Antoine found his visit highly enjoyable, for the high priest was a man of unbelievable mental faculty. Time had elapsed without Antoine’s slight notice when he was deeply engrossed in the high priest’s vivid description of the land he grew up in and deeply loved.

 

“The majestic mountains are our gateways to the Gods. I have made several journeys there and it never fails to amaze me,” the longing in the high priest’s tone was so apparent that Antoine felt it as if he were there. “The trek up is strenuous yet the reward at the end is worthwhile. In the top of the snow-capped mountain, you could see the stars, so bright and so clear at night, hundreds of thousands of them. Some are so close that you could almost touch them with your hands. Yet they are so far away, so beyond our reach, twinkling at us with hidden secrets and wisdom we may never comprehend.”

 

“Is that why you are so fascinated by them?” asked Antoine curiously and the high priest smiled. “Indeed. Besides our Gods, the stars are my one true love until…” he stopped abruptly and sighed, his eyes wandering to the closed door.

 

These days, the high priest was no longer confined to his own room. Captain Sánchez seemed to have abandoned all caution and decorum and have moved the high priest to his private chamber. No one in Captain Sánchez’s household dared to treat the high priest as a prisoner either, for the captain had not only granted the high priest freedom within the house (Antoine’s frequent visits were never denied and the captain had given them privacy every single time), he had also showered the high priest with affection and the worldly comfort he could manage to find. In fact, the high priest was clad in a fine silk robe that Antoine recognised as belonging to Captain Sánchez. Though it was slightly too large for the high priest, the embroidery was exquisite and the material simply smooth and light. Knowing how much the captain treasured this, Antoine simply could not believe his eyes when he first saw the high priest wearing it. It appeared that Captain Sánchez would have heeded every whim of his mystical lover, had he chosen to exercise his power over the captain. But the high priest was not a man of worldly pleasure. His only request to the captain was to retrieve the scriptures from Inti Kancha so he could continue his study of the cosmos, which the captain granted immediately. 

 

“How…” Antoine struggled with words, an increasingly common occurrence these days, “How are you and the captain faring?”

 

The high priest smiled sadly, “Our fate is inevitable as the tidal waves dying on the shore. I oftentimes wonder if this recently blossomed affection is a blessing or a curse. Oh no, I regret is not,” he added hastily upon the look on Antoine’s face, “I have long dedicated my mind, my life, and my heart to our Gods. Never have I imagined that my heart would yearn for a mortal man. Oh but Mighty Inti, how my body trembles when he is near; how my heart beats when his eyes are upon me; how my soul sings upon his smile; how my mind dances when I converse with him! I feel alive in his presence. My mind has found its equal. My heart and soul have finally found where they belong. It is the utmost bliss such that I have never experienced before. Having experienced such emotions and feelings, my life is finally complete.”

 

Antoine could not help but be deeply affected by the high priest, whose usually calm demeanour was now so expressive that his high cheekbones were tinged with red. The sparkle in his eyes when he spoke of Captain Sánchez was brighter than the purest starlight. Antoine wondered what it must feel like to feel such deep passion and attachment towards someone. Then, most inexplicably, the face of  _ his _ captain, came into his mind, along with it, a sense of serenity and security so often associated with Captain González. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Antoine contemplated his feelings towards his captain. Was it love, the all-consuming passionate love that the high priest was experiencing with Captain Sánchez? If it was indeed, how could it be so tranquil and calming?

 

High priest Apu Siva seemed to have sensed Antoine’s confusion as he held Antoine’s hand in a comforting manner, “Fret not my friend, love is such a magical thing that it manifests itself differently in different people. Trust your heart. It shall tell you what your soul craves.”

 

So maybe this was the answer, Antoine mused. Maybe love was not just about passion. It was about peeling out all the layers of pretence and protection to bring out your innermost desire that no one else knew. He thought about the peace and ease he felt when he was in his captain’s company and he knew that his heart, normally so overactive and restless, longed for that sense of trust and security. For the first time in his life, Antoine understood what he had yearned for all these years was he was more than grateful to have found such a person in his lifetime. The fact that he was of the same sex as Antoine mattered so very little in love, yet so much in life.

 

Ever perceptive, the high priest smiled fondly at the young scholar, “I have never fathomed the possibility of myself falling in love, with a Christian captain no less. Yet I did and it is the most powerful and wondrous, for it transcends language, Gods, space, and time. Once you have found it, do not let anything else obstruct your pursuit.”

 

“What if the external force is too great to ignore?” asked Antoine sadly, “What if fate is determined to separate you?”

 

“Our fate does not bode the doom of our love,” replied the high priest serenely, “Our bodies may be separated soon, but our hearts shall unite as one, which nothing can put asunder. My only regret is that he shall be the one left behind, ploughing through years of solitude and heartbreak. If it is within my power, I wish I am the one left to live, for it is a greater sacrifice and burden that he does not deserve to bear.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

On his way out, Antoine spotted Captain Sánchez entering his house, deep in conversation with a tall handsome nobleman dressed in elaborately decorated robes. Not wishing to be seen nor introduced to a stranger while his emotion was still raw from his visit, Antoine did a most unbecoming thing and hid behind a bookshelf.

 

“Surely you could be of some help, Fernando. You are the King's most trusted friend and confidant,” Captain Sánchez sounded positively desperate, “would that not be enough to spare the life of one man, pagan or not?”

 

Realisation dawned on Antoine. The nobleman Captain Sánchez was pleading to was none other than Señor Fernando Don Sanz, Count de Toreno. The rumours surrounding the Count had always been abundant, most of which centred around his relationship with the King. Beholding the Count in person, Antoine began to understand what spawns such speculations. With a tall slender build, shoulder-length golden hair, dark brown eyes, and a kind smile that rendered his face more youthful than his actual age, the Count was not only pleasing to the eyes but also inviting trust and confidence. Yet Antoine could not fathom any relations beyond pure friendship between the amiable young nobleman in front of him and the King, one so devoted to his wife that dalliances outside their marriage were unheard of. 

 

Upon the intense pleading gaze of his friend, the Count sighed, “I may have enjoyed the King’s friendship, but even the King is not without constraints, for he depends on his lords’ loyalty and his fear that he might be deemed a foreign King is hardly unfounded. The Governor's expeditions in the New World has brought the King great riches and strength. He shall not seek to impede on the Governor’s authority over such a trivial matter.”

 

“It is no trivial matter to me!” barked Captain Sánchez, as he stopped dead on his track, glaring at his friend, “He is of the utmost importance to me and I shall do anything to save his life, even sacrificing my own.”

 

“Please Guaje,” said the Count almost exasperatedly, “I understand he is most dear to you. Yet to the King, he is but a nameless pagan, whose life amount to nothing. The King has granted the Governor almost complete autonomy regarding the local populace, so long as he brings home ample amount of gold and other riches. Have you spoken to the Governor regarding the matter? He has always trusted you has he not? Perhaps he could be persuaded to show his mercy just this once.”

 

“I have endeavoured, multiple times to no avail,” Captain Sánchez sank onto a nearby chair and grabbed his hair in utter distress, “Apu Siva is no mere local townsman or even an ordinary priest. He is the high priest and the spiritual leader. The Governor wants to set an example for those who refuse to convert. He, he…” his voice broke, “he is determined to have Apu Siva executed. I know not how to change his mind. I have failed him, for I cannot prevent this most unjust and terrible fate!”

 

Count de Toreno seated himself next to his distraught friend and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You have tried your best, yet one cannot change the nature of this world. Do not blame yourself, my friend. I am sure the high priest would not want or approve of it.”

 

“What am I to do?” Captain Sánchez, the ever strong and even cold captain, was now on the brink of a breakdown, “I cannot let him be executed publicly. I simply cannot stand it!”

 

“Perhaps,” said the Count most cautiously, “I could seek an audience with the Governor myself. Please do not get your hopes up. I cannot guarantee anything. I know not the Governor personally and my only hope is that my position and status in court might lend some weight to my argument. I dare not to hope for a reprieve, for that is almost fanciful. Yet maybe I can afford the high priest some dignity in his last moments of life.”

 

“You mean he can choose,” choked the captain, “his own manner of…”

 

“If I am fortunate, then yes. My trip ought to buy you more time as well. I know it is little consolation but I am afraid that is all I can hope to achieve. The New World is too far from Spain and the King.”

 

Captain Sánchez breathed deeply and looked his friend straight in the eye, “You are a true friend, Fernando. I am forever in your debt, for every minute with him is too precious for me to forego. Besides, he has a different view on death than we do,” the sad smile on his face was most heartbreaking, “If he could choose his own manner of death, he could perhaps ascend to their heaven and live amongst their Gods. It means more than anything to him.”

 

“What of you my friend?” Count de Toreno scrutinised his friend’s face most closely, “How are you to go on living after you have lost him.”

 

Captain Sánchez remained silent for a long time as his eyes strayed to the direction of the room the high priest was in. Finally, he spoke in a soft voice, “It matters not how I shall live, for the life without him is shallow and meaningless to me. Yet I shall always cherish the memories I have with him, every single minute of every single day for the rest of my life. My only solace is that I am the one left behind, the one who shall suffer all the loss and heartbreak, for I cannot imagine subjecting him to such fate. Oh fear not my dear friend,” he smiled sadly upon the concerned look on Count de Toreno’s face, “I shall not end my life. Yet I will rejoice the day when I am to meet my maker, for that might be the day that we could finally be reunited.”


	19. Period 3 - 1533 AD

Antoine had always considered himself a sensible person. True, he could be strong-willed and impulsive sometimes, yet he would never gamble on something as crucial to his happiness and well-being as his friendship with his captain, for he simply could not contemplate life deprived of it. He was therefore surprised by his own actions when he flung himself into his captain’s arms the very next time they were alone. Ignoring his captain’s astonished expressions, Antoine sealed the captain’s lips with a passionate kiss, forestalling any potential inquiries, even just for a moment. His heart pulsating irregularly in his chest, he almost ceased breathing when his captain failed to respond at first. Perhaps he had misconstrued the signals. Perhaps his captain’s feelings towards him were nothing but paternal love and protection. Perhaps his captain was traditional after all and do not desire the affections of the same sex. Whatever the cause, Antoine had just overstepped the fine line and now irrevocably damaged the most important relationship in his life. Just as he was about to disentangle himself from the older man, however, ready to retreat into his room to sob his heart out, Captain González wound one strong arm up his back while his other hand grabbed the back of Antoine’s head. Locked in the captain’s firm embrace, Antoine surrendered himself completely to his captain, who was returning his kiss with great passion and purpose.

 

When they finally parted, both panting for breath, Antoine looked into the captain’s grey eyes and felt himself almost overwhelmed with emotions in them, love, relief, gratitude, humility, desire, all of which were echoed in his own. A thousand words rushed through his mind, one paler than the other in the face of his feelings, and when he opened his mouth, nothing but a sigh came out. Captain González smiled slowly at him, a smile that rendered his face 20 years younger, while pressing their foreheads together. No words were needed between them, for they understood each other perfectly, how blessed they were, to have finally found each other.

 

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The next few days had been a blur, filled with commotions and changes. Armed with his new-found love, Antoine embraced life with renewed passion and fervour. He was determined to help Captain Sánchez and the high priest in any way he could, for he now understood how precious love was. He was constantly found in the house of Captain Sánchez’s house, keeping the high priest company while the captain was out on duty. Even though this meant reduced time spent in the arms of his captain, Antoine reasoned that while they had a lifetime to spend together, the high priest’s days in the world were numbered. If he could provide the high priest with some reprieve from the harsh reality of the world, he would be more than happy to oblige. They passed most of their time in comfortable silence, the high priest working on his theories of the cosmos with the help of the manuscript while Antoine busied himself with readings about the local geology and climate. Every now and then they would exchange some ideas on their perspective readings. Antoine wished he could make more intellectual contributions to their discussions but despite his own aptitude, the high priest had demonstrated superior intellect and accomplishment that rendered their conversation a little more one-sided. Nevertheless, Antoine was pleased for the high priest seemed to have made good progress on his study, which had kept his spirit high.

 

One thing that still persisted in the back of Antoine’s mind was the secrecy of the nature of his relationship with his captain. He had not confided in anyone yet, though he had a feeling that the high priest may have surmised as much from his altered behaviour and mood. His main concern, however, was Father Esclápez. Despite the young father’s sympathy and support for the attachment between Captain Sánchez and the high priest, Antoine feared that Father Esclápez might not approve of his relations with his captain, for Father Esclápez was still a man of God. While Captain Sánchez and the high priest’s fate had been preordained to doom, which inspired sympathy rather than judgement, Antoine and his captain still had many potentially happy years ahead of them. Could the father stand for such affection to blossom? Antoine really knew not. Yet he had not the heart to conceal this any longer from his friends. Surely, it was preferable to inform his friends in person than risking them walking on him and his captain in a compromised position.

 

Fortunately for Antoine, the next time he saw Father Esclápez was within Koke’s company, which had eased the tension and distress of the young father significantly. Fearing that he might lose his courage had he dawdled on the subject, Antoine went straight to his revelation.

 

Both Father Esclápez and Koke stayed silent for a long time. While Koke seemed at ease with this new development, Father Esclápez was frowning slightly. Antoine felt his palm beginning to sweat as his heartbeat quickened.

 

“Are you quite certain of your feelings my friend?” When Father Esclápez finally spoke, the emotion in his tone was carefully controlled. “Have you not perhaps confused admiration with affection?”

 

“Of course not!” exclaimed Antoine adamantly. Though he would not fault his friend for his reservation on the affair, Antoine could hardly forgive his friend’s doubt on his sincerity and affection. “I may be young in age and new to the realm of love, but I am not feeble-minded nor weak-hearted to misconstrue my feelings towards my captain. I am deeply, passionately, and truly in love with him.”

 

A heavy sigh escaped Father Esclápez, “Forgive my friend, I mean no offence. I merely want to ascertain your heart, for the decision you have undertaken is no trivial one. Frankly, given what I have seen in the past month, I fear that I am in no position to pass judgement on matters of heart.”

 

“My dear friend,” said Koke in a soft voice, a faint smile on his face, “I doubt Antoine is asking for your permission as a priest. He is, however, hoping for your blessing as a friend.”

 

Antoine smiled gratefully at Koke. Despite his quiet disposition and humble upbringing, Koke had sharp eyes and a heart of gold to understand the nature of heart more effortlessly than perhaps all of them. Father Esclápez exchanged a quick look with Koke before fixing his gaze back on Antoine.

 

“My dear Antoine, I truly appreciate you confiding in me, despite the doubt you might have on my reaction. Your confidence is a sign of true friendship. For that, I must speak my mind,” for some reason, he looked even more nervous than Antoine. Thankfully Koke squeezed his shoulders in a comforting manner, which had calmed down Father Esclápez. “Had you divulge the nature of your relations with Captain González a mere month before, I would have opposed it most wholeheartedly. I would have sought any means possible to end such relations while convinced I was not doing you a disservice. But I have learned so much in the past month, not of things from the scripture, but of one’s heart and will, and the power thereof. It will most probably displease the church, but I believe that God, forever merciful, wishes us to follow our heart and find our own happiness. As your friend, it pleases me to no end that you have found yours. You have my blessing and I wish you all the happiness with your one true love.”

 

Letting out a strangled sob of happiness and relief, Antoine threw his arms around his friend’s neck. He knew not what he would have done if his friends rejected him. Father Esclápez returned his embrace with equal fervour while Koke beamed at them. This blissful reprieve was short-lived, however, for they inevitably had to face the harsh reality.

 

“Have you thought about the future, what you shall do next?” asked Koke in a slightly concerned tone.

 

“What do you mean?” Antoine was still too overwhelmed by his emotions to comprehend the current circumstance.

 

“You have chosen a most difficult path,” sighed Koke, “We might be understanding of your choice as your friends, I doubt the society shall be. Neither you nor the Captain is a recluse with little attached to their names. Once you return to Spain, your relations with him shall face scrutiny from everyone. What are you to do if the church deems your love an abomination and decides to put you asunder?”

 

Antoine gasped. Too preoccupied with the fate of the high priest and his new-found love with his captain, he had not given the future any thought. He knew that Koke was right though. Their love shall never receive the blessing from the society, not the one they came from anyway. There seemed to be little choice in front of them and Father Esclápez smiled sadly, having guessed Antoine’s decision already.

 

“I suppose the end is near, for all of us,” Father Esclápez held Antoine’s hand to his heart, as tears began to well up in his beautiful eyes, “I hate to part ways with your my dear friend, for I have learned to cherish your friendship most dearly in the past several months. Yet I understand your choice completely. It is the right thing to do, for you and for Captain González, for you both deserve happiness. I shall miss your company dearly but I shall endure and pray for you every day.”

 

Words were lost on Antoine’s lips. So overwhelmed with love and friendship, he could only smile tearfully at his friends. Koke was the one to break the silence again, forever practical and sensible, “I realise this may be too hasty, but have you given your destination any consideration? When will you bid your farewell?”

 

This was a valid question that Antoine had not considered before. Granted he had little time to dwell on the matter, yet somehow the answer came to him most effortlessly. “I shall stay until the end of days of the high priest. I have no desire to abandon him at this crucial juncture. Once that is concluded, we shall take our leave. Diego is a born sailor for whom a domestic and docile life is ill-suited. We shall sail around the world, particularly the New World. There is so much yet to be discovered!”

 

“Then maybe one day you shall settle,” smiled Koke warmly, “perhaps even return to Spain. If you ever wish to do that, we shall always welcome you, our friends and brothers, with open arms and warm hearts.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

A formal letter was delivered a month later to Captain González’s house, bearing the official seal of Captain Sánchez during breakfast, one of the rare moments Antoine got to share with his captain. Antoine paid it no attention at first, thinking it was probably some regimen business. The look on his captain’s face when he wordlessly passed the letter to Antoine, however, could only be described as sad and worrisome. Taking the letter with slightly trembling hand, Antoine read on.

 

_My dear friend,_

 

_Please forgive me for being the bearer of the sad tiding. Fernando has just returned from his journey. The final verdict from the Governor regarding my dear Apu Siva’s fate has been delivered. Though I had little hope before, I still find fate to be incredibly cruel. Despite Fernando’s best effort, the Governor relents not and Apu Siva must meet death within a fortnight. My only comfort is that the Governor has granted Fernando the small mercy that Apu Siva shall choose his own place and manner of death. He has sent a delegation of his trusted advisors and soldiers to oversee and witness the event. We are to set for Mount Mismi on the morrow, the top of which shall be the resting place of Apu Siva’s earthly shell. For that, I am forever grateful for Fernando, who, being a true friend, had not only secured this little act of mercy but also agreed to accompany us to the Mountain. I realise that my actions upon our first arrival were less than honourable and may have damaged our friendship, for which I alone am to blame. Yet I still hold both you and Señor Lopez in my highest esteem and I would regard it a great honour to have your company on this sorrowful journey._

  


_Yours most faithfully,_

_Guaje_

 

“The decision is entirely yours,” said Captain González in a gentle and soft tone, while wipe away the tears streaking down Antoine’s face, “whatever your choice may be, I shall follow you to the end of the world.” And suddenly, this journey did not seem as foreboding as before.


	20. Period 3 - 1533 AD

The journey to Mount Mismi was far from easy. Despite the carriages provided by Count de Toreno, the road was treacherous and the altitude trying. Once they had arrived at the feet of the mighty mountain, they had to abandon the carriages and continue on foot, with the local alpacas carrying their belongings. The only comfort of the journey lay in the company. Both Father Esclápez and Koke had accepted Captain Sánchez’s invitation, along with his beloved captain. Count de Toreno as it transpired, was agreeable company too, which made it much easier to ignore the presence of the delegation from the Governor. Antoine wished he could spend more time with the high priest, who was the sole reason for his coming here. But he could hardly fault the high priest for devoting the last few days of his life to his love and Antoine contented himself with the company of his friends and his captain.

 

Truth be told, Antoine had not expected such difficulties and ailments on his person on this journey. Yet as they ascended the mighty mountain, the lack of air put a taxing burden on his lung. While the days were pleasantly bearable, albeit with increasingly blinding sunlight, the night was bitter cold. Rough wind rattled their small tents, which could provide little comfort. Apart from the alpacas, the one faring the best was the high priest, who apparently made annual pilgrimages to different mountains in the Inca Empire.

 

“Drink this,” Apu Siva handed Antoine a small cup of some herbal drink on freezing night, “it shall soothe your stomach and ease your breathing.”

 

“What is it?” Antoine took a tentative sip yet failed to recognise the taste of the herbs.

 

“It is Kuka drink,” smiled the high priest, “the plant, Macoca, grows in the Yunka lowlands of the empire. Borne out of the divine Goddess Pachamama, it is a most incredible leaf. Our ancestors have been blessed with its many magical uses and it is common practice for people visiting the mountains and the highlands to chew them. Yet you may be more used to this particular method of consumption. A drink is not as effective, but shall help you somewhat.”

 

If anything, the warmth of the drink brought more life to Antoine, for which he was immensely grateful. “What are you drinking?” he sniffed curiously at the drink Apu Siva was holding and his nose was immediately assaulted with the smell of alcohol.

 

“That my dear Antoine,” Captain González’s voice from behind startled Antoine but he soon relaxed into his lover’s embrace, “is chicha. Normally I would not refuse such indulgence but it is unwise to drink it in the mountains.”

 

“The high priest is drinking it,” Antoine almost pouted and he felt rather than heard his captain’s chuckling. The high priest, however, was kind enough to enlighten him. “I am well accustomed to its effect. It is always consumed when we perform rituals to the Gods, which usually take place in the peaks of the mountains. For someone not used to the mountains, however, it can be quite dangerous. Your Khuya is merely trying to protect you.”

 

Antoine blushed at the word Khuya. He had never explicitly confided in the high priest about his changed relationship with his captain. The high priest, ever observant, detected the change nevertheless. Antoine’s attention was quickly drawn back to the predicament of the high priest though.

 

“Rituals? You mean sacrifices?” asked Antoine, trying very hard not to sound judgemental. Despite their months-long acquaintance and friendship, this was a subject never broached. So engrossed was Antoine in trying to help the high priest, he gave such practices little thought. “Have you officiated many of those?”

 

“I have been present in quite a few of them, yes,” the high priest calmly, “I have yet to officiate any since my rise to the high priest was less than a year before. Not all are about sacrifices, not human ones to any rate. For significant occasions, however, a willing believer pure of heart and body shall have the opportunity to ascend to the realms of Gods.”

 

Antoine knew not what to say. This concept was so foreign to him that he found it inconceivable. How could anyone as bright and intellectual as the high priest believe in it? Sensing his discomfort, Captain González started rubbing soothing circles on Antoine’s back. “Everyone believes in different things Antoine. What you may find unimaginable could be the most natural credence of others. We know not for sure what becomes of our body and soul after passing from this realm. Who is to say the high priest is wrong, or right? He is merely acting on what he has been taught and believe in, as are we.”

 

The look High priest Apu Siva gave Captain González was mixed with gratitude and admiration. An incredible sense of pride swelled in Antoine’s heart. His captain had always been the most understanding and open-minded man he had ever met. He had known how to empathise with, understand, and respect others despite their differences, something Antoine shall strive for every day.

 

“Do you really believe in it?” asked Antoine again in earnest, this time not because he was objecting to the high priest’s beliefs, but for he wanted to ascertain the high priest was not forced into the situation. “That your own death is just the beginning of another journey? Are you scared?”

 

The unexpected silence and hesitation from the high priest that followed almost worried Antoine, while it relieved him at the same time. For the first time, Antoine saw not the divine ethereal spiritual leader in front of him. Rather he saw a real ordinary human being with worries, doubts, sadness, and love like any other. The high priest’s eyes strayed to Captain Sánchez before he replied in a low voice.

 

“I wish I can tell you I have no doubts and fear. But deep down, I know not what happens next, and I am deeply fearful of that. I have to believe though, not for my sake but for Guaje. How can I bear the thought that I have left him behind in the harsh world all by himself, with a broken heart and many lonely years to come? I could not do that to him. I have to give to hope. Thus I have to stay strong and true to my belief, for this is the only comfort I can give him, the only thing that might sustain him going forward.”

 

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By the time they had reached the peak of Mount Mismi, they had but one day to spare of the fortnight dictated by the Governor. “Make haste,” growled one of the Governor's soldiers impatiently, “we do not have all day and I wish to take leave of this accursed mountain the first opportunity I have.”

 

Granted that they had all been plagued by the journey and altitude, it was never proper to rush one’s farewell to his loved ones and Antoine could hardly fault Captain Sánchez for wishing to do the soldier physical harm. Fortunately, his anger was appeased by a gentle hand placed on his arm. The high priest smiled at Captain Sánchez before resuming his task of preparing a makeshift altar. Without a word, Koke and Captain González, the strongest of their company, went to move slabs of stones about. Seeing that the soldiers were less than inclined to help, Antoine, Father Esclápez, and to Antoine’s surprise Count de Toreno, went to the other’s aid. Captain Sánchez on the other hand, stayed by the high priest’s side and nobody could fault him for it.

 

Once the altar was built, the high priest gave Count de Toreno a meaningful look, which prompted the Count to address the Governor’s delegation. “My fine fellow gentlemen, I would like to express my appreciation for your company in this arduous journey. Your service to the Governor, the King, and God shall not be forgotten. Now, the stage has been set and we would like to request some privacy for the high priest so he could make peace with the world of his own accord.”

 

The soldier who just spoke snorted with obvious contempt, “He is nothing but a mere pagan prisoner. Surely he cannot be afforded such luxury. If he does not make haste, I shall offer my aid, with my sword.”

 

Before Captain Sánchez could react, the captain of the delegation, a handsome young man who had spoken very little during the journey, intervened. “That is enough Señor Ferreira. The Governor has granted the Count his wish and you will do well to heed his order.” He turned to Count de Toreno with a little bow, “Forgive him, Your Excellency. Fatigue and the Mountain have clouded his judgement. He spoke out of term and I must apologise for his behaviour.”

 

“Please do not trouble yourself, Captain García. You have been most kind to us during and there is nothing to forgive,” replied the Count kindly.

 

“I praise you for your generosity,” said the captain, his voice level but not unkind, “I hear your request. As the captain of the delegation, however, it is my duty to ensure the execution of the prisoner. Under no circumstance shall I let any lapse of justice. You can, of course, understand my concern regarding the situation.”

 

“Naturally,” nodded the Count, “Please allow me to assure you that your concern, though not misplaced, is not needed. I give you my word that I will see to it that the high priest is within my sight until his last breath. Once the ritual is completed, you shall have the right to examine his body so you can fulfil your duty and report back to the Governor.”

 

“In that case, I see no objection to a more private event. We shall take our leave now and shall be waiting for you half a league from here.”

 

Antoine had never been to an Inca ritual before so he hardly knew what to expect. They all cleared the space around the altar so the high priest and Captain Sánchez would be the only ones participating, giving them so last moments of intimacy. Squinting his eyes, Antoine could see the high priest kneeled in front of the altar, Captain Sánchez next to him, murmuring undoubtedly Inca prayers with his eyes closed and his face facing up the darkening sky. The stars were beginning to appear and Antoine could not think of a more fitting time for the high priest to go, basked in the pure starlight, fascinated by the mystery of the cosmos. Once he had finished, he handed Captain Sánchez a cup of chicha while holding one himself. Together they drank, eyes locked and the free hand entwined with each other. Tears welled up in Antoine’s eyes and his vision blurred. Next to him, his captain wrapped a protective arm around his shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. When he looked up, Antoine could see the anguished look on his captain’s face, which made him wound his arm around his captain’s waist instinctively, offering some small comfort. A small gasp from Father Esclápez, however, drew Antoine’s attention back to the altar.

 

Now basked in bright moonlight, the high priest was smiling serenely at Captain Sánchez. His chest bared and his arms loosely around the captain, the high priest was facing his beloved directly in a half embrace. There was no trace of fear or hesitation on his face, only that of love and peace. Though Antoine could not see the face of Captain Sánchez, the bowed head and quivering shoulder told him that the ever so tough captain was crying. The captain’s hand was trembling and within it was unmistakably a dagger.

 

Clasping his hand to his mouth, Antoine understood what was to happen. Sure enough, Captain Sánchez raised his hand and with a gut-wrenching howl akin to that of a wounded animal, delivered the deadly blow directly into the heart of his lover. Feeling air thinning around him, Antoine’s vision blurred and the world shattered around him. Blackness engulfed him and he closed his eyes, knowing no more.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Looking back upon his journey many years later, Antoine could hardly recall how he managed to descend from the cold peak of the mountain. His memories were vague and fragmented, haunted by Father Esclápez’s tears, the pained expression of Koke, and the blank hollow look on Captain Sánchez’s face. The only thing he could hold on to was the steady warmth of his captain’s arms and his murmured words of comfort.

 

Before their departure to explore the world, Captain Sánchez paid them an unexpected visit. He was thin and looked as if sorrow had aged him overnight. Antoine looked on with great concern while Captain González embraced his friend.

 

“I have resigned from His Majesty’s regiment,” said Captain Sánchez without much of a preamble. “After everything that has happened, I cannot find it in my conscience to continue to serve.”

 

“Of course,” Captain González patted his friend gently, “what is your plan for the future? Are you to return to Spain with Father Esclápez and Koke? I heard that they are to set sail on the morrow.”

 

“No,” Captain Sánchez shook his head slowly, “I have decided, to stay.” Antoine exchanged a surprised look with his captain but made no attempt to interrupt. “This land is his home, his root, where he belongs. I wish to remain where he is close. I yearn to learn of his past, for that is where my future lies.”

 

“If this is where your heart lies, you must follow it,” said Captain González with a faint smile, “But I think you have made the right choice. He has not and will never leave this land. He will watch over it and you from where he is now. Maybe later, you will be reunited.”

 

“That is my only wish,” sighed Captain Sánchez before he turned to Antoine. “The main purpose of my visit is to show you this.” He handed a scroll to Antoine, who blinked and took it. “It was his work on the mysteries of the cosmos and he left it to me before, well, at the altar. He said that you ought to see it because he could not have done it without your gift.”

 

Gasping in surprise, Antoine unfolded the scroll which was filled with diagrams and complex symbols. It seemed that the high priest had written in both Spanish and Quechua.

 

“It was his wish for the world to know about it, one day,” said Captain Sánchez in a soft voice with so much affection and pride in his voice that it brought fresh tears to Antoine’s eyes. Not wishing to damage the scroll, he handed it back to the captain. “He feared for the fate of his people and their culture, that it might be lost in history. Now,” the captain hesitated, “I know you have contributed more to his study than I have done and you may wish to keep it. After all, I am no scholar and probably never shall be one. It is nevertheless something of his. Something he created while he was with me. His hands once touched the scrolls and his handwriting endures on it. Would you mind if I keep it, as something for me to remember him by?”

 

“Of course not,” cried Antoine in earnest, “I have no claim over it whatsoever. It is yours and yours only. I am sure you shall cherish and protect it along with his memory much better than I ever can.”

 

“Thank you,” smiled Captain Sánchez for the first time since the passing of his lover, some spark of life finally return to his eyes, “I swear to you that I shall hold it most dear and never let his memory fade. I shall pass it on, along with the most beautiful culture of his people, so when I finally reunite with him, I can tell him that I have never let him down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuka: Coca leaf  
> Macoca: Coca tree
> 
> That's it. End of Story 3 and we're almost half way done (there are 7 stories total). The astronomy discovery described here is obviously made up. Despite the Inca's impressive astronomy skills, they were nowhere near to discovering the secret of the universe. But hey, it's a story so some imagination never hurts, does it :)


	21. Period 4 - 1943 AD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes Story 4, set in WWII, from Diego's POV. Our dear boys will again face a tumultuous time where their courage, friendship, and love will be tested while their lives are at stake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WWII is another period that has always intrigued me. The complexity of human nature is both fascinating and scary. Hopefully I've managed to convey some of that in this story.

Summer in Vichy area was always quite pleasant, with warm breezes of wind and the occasional sun, enough to warm up the area but not too much to make it scorching hot. For Pablo González, however, summer always presented itself with more trouble than not. For one, while keeping the windows shut and curtains drawn was perfectly normal practice in cold winter months, it made little sense now given the heat. Speaking of heat, Pablo felt that the occupants of that small farmhouse had grown more restless with the rising temperature, making it much harder to keep everything quiet. It wasn’t just the occupants though. As everything had awoken from their long dormant state of the winter, he had seen more activities around the farmhouse than normal, movements partially hidden in the shadows of the lush trees and bushes. For any normal person, none of the above would be reasons for real concern. Except Pablo was no ordinary person. He was the commander of a small resistance group hiding in the farmhouse outside Vichy. So yes, these inconveniences were quite problematic. So before he went inside the house, Pablo scouted around the house for any unwanted guests very thoroughly. Fortunately, the only ones he found were a couple hares, which he had gladly captured for their dinner. 

 

The first thing that greeted him once he opened the door was a loud groaning noise from down below. Closing the door quickly, Pablo rushed through the living room into the back of the house, cursing silently under his breath.

 

“Hush, Antoine!” hissed Pablo after he lifted the floorboard hidden beneath the carpet in the storage room and practically crashed into the downstairs basement, “Anyone could hear you from a mile away.”

 

“You try changing the dressing of the wound without any morphine.” The half-naked young man sitting on the bed retorted back angrily, though he did lower his voice. His handsome face was contorted in pain and his golden hair stuck to his face, covered in sweat. The wound in his abdomen was still nasty-looking and Pablo’s face softened almost immediately.

 

“Just be careful,” he sighed, “I don’t want to put any of you in danger.”

 

“Right,” murmured the Antoine slightly ashamed, “I’ll get something to bite on next time. I just wasn’t expecting this much pain is all. It wasn’t that bad before.”

 

“That’s because you were never conscious enough before,” the dark-haired young man next to him shot Antoine a quick look before cleaning up the bandages and supplies. “At least now you have enough strength to cry out. It’s an improvement.”

 

“Is he doing alright doctor?” asked Pablo, eager to hear the prognosis of his young friend.

 

“For someone who had lost half of his blood with a bullet close enough to remove his spleen from existence, he’s doing fine,” snorted the doctor. Despite his petite and almost frail statute, the doctor had an assured air around him whenever he was around his patient for him to be ignored. “If I can prevent the infection, he will be good as new in no time. I won’t push your luck though Maçon,” he added warningly at the relieved look on Antoine’s face, “Next time when there’s a bloody bullet coming your way, dodge!”

 

“Yes, doctor Jiménez!” Chirped Antoine with a look of feigned obedience. Dr Jiménez rolled his eyes and rose to leave the room. “Give those hares to me Pablo. I’ll take care of them upstairs. In fact, don’t bring them here next time. It’s bad enough that we have poor air ventilation in the basement. I don’t want to risk Antoine any further.”

 

In Pablo’s defence, Antoine’s yelling was too distracting for him to think properly. He was, however, more concerned about another problem. “Are you sure it’s wise for you to go upstairs, especially given the current circumstance? I don’t want to risk…”

 

“You cannot keep me cooped up here forever,” snorted Dr Jiménez impatiently, “I’ll be fine. This shouldn’t take long anyway.”

 

“If you say so Josué,” sighed Pablo before turning his attention back to Antoine. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Alive and kicking,” the grin Antoine gave him could only be described as cheeky, “Bored out of my pants though. Josué kept babying me and he wouldn’t let me do anything. He wouldn’t tell me a thing either! What has been going on? Why hasn’t anyone been up to visit me? Are they really that terrorised by Josué?”

 

Pablo forced an easy smile on his face, “You know how terrifying Josué can be. He’s not someone you want to cross when your life is in his hands. I have to go now. I sent Saúl out and I want to check if he’s back. I have some news but I want to wait until the others are here to share. Get some rest now and I’ll come visit you later.”

 

Outside the basement, Pablo let out a sigh. He did not know whether and how to break the news to Antoine. Was the boy strong enough to take it? He certainly did not want to jeopardise Antoine’s recovery. But with his strength and mind recovering every day, Antoine was bound to ask questions and Pablo did not know how much longer he could keep up the pretence. Maybe it was time. The boy was strong and he was a soldier after all. He would understand. But in any case, Pablo wasn’t going to do anything until he cleared it with Josué first. The doctor’s wraths were the last thing he needed right now.

 

When Pablo found Josué skinning the hares with maddening efficiency and brutality, he lost no time in getting straight to the point. “Antoine just asked me about what happened. Do you think I should tell him?”

 

Taking a deep breath and setting down the bloody knife, Josué seemed more conflicted about the decision that Pablo would have liked, “His condition is pretty stable at this point. Recovery will be long but I don’t see any immediate danger whether you tell him or not. As for his mental state, I really cannot say. I’ll leave the decision to you.” 

 

“I can’t make this kind of decision on my own. You’re the bloody doctor. You know his health the best.” cried Pablo indignantly.

 

“I may be his doctor,” said Josué slowly, not taking his eyes off Pablo, “but you’re his everything. You know his heart.” With that, he returned to attack the poor hares, leaving Pablo stunned to the spot.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

In the end, Pablo decided to tell Antoine. He couldn’t stand the thought of lying to his young friend, not with something this big.

 

“So Gabe, Kevin, and Lucas are all…” Antoine’s beautiful blue eyes were filled with tears and his lips quivered. Pablo nodded solemnly. The next thing he knew, Antoine crashed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Hesitating for a moment, Pablo eventually wrapped his arms around the younger man, patting his hair gently. He could hardly blame Antoine for his reaction, for their previous mission was a complete disaster.

 

They had tried to intercept a group of Jewish refugees being deported to Germany, undoubtedly to meet their terrible fate. Even since Nazi Germany took control of pretty much all of France at the end of last year, things had been deteriorating rapidly. Shortly after New Year, transportations of Jews had been resumed in France with hundreds of thousands of innocents being sent to an almost certain death. Pablo’s group had been working on helping the Jews since then. Since their group was small, usually they tried to avoid direct confrontations with the Milice, instead of trying to smuggle and shelter as many Jews as they could before they were rounded up. But every now and then, they would stage a small military action when they knew the defence was weak. They had been lucky so far, but not this time.

 

That fateful night, instead of a squad of several Milice soldiers, they were faced with a whole platoon of them. Six of them against at least 30 heavily armed Milice soldiers. They never stood a chance. Antoine was out not 2 minutes into the action. Despite his best effort, Pablo could only retreat with Saúl and an unconscious Antoine, while Gabe, Kevin, and Lucas lay cold in that forest. 

 

“It was my fault,” sniffled Antoine miserably, “If I hadn’t been that useless and got knocked out the moment I was…”

 

“It is not your fault!” Pablo held Antoine to look him straight in the eye, his expression firm and serious. “We never could have accomplished the mission against 30 enemies. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I am the one in charge. I should have known better. Instead, I gathered the wrong intel and organised a suicide mission. I have failed all of you.”

 

Without a word, Antoine buried his face in Pablo’s chest again, crying silently. Pablo sighed. He did not know how to comfort the young man, for he was suffering from the same pain, as he meant every word he had just said. He had failed them all, wise courage Gabe, strong passionate Kevin, and young yet so determined Lucas. Oh and Antoine, the baby-faced forever cheerful Antoine, the optimistic and dedicated young man whom he had sworn to protect since the first time they met, was now hurt, both physically and mentally. Pablo wondered if the youth would still trust him, respect him, worship him like he did before. Somehow he wasn’t sure if he could take the alternative. 

 

The bigger problem they faced right now, was that they were short on men. With Antoine out on injury and Josué being a half Jewish refugee stuck in the basement of the house, there were only Saúl and himself left. His source, Fernando, or as he was now known, Fernand, was usually reliable and trustworthy. But the intel he gave last time was so improbably wrong that Pablo was not sure if he could be trusted anymore. Their situation was indeed grave.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Saúl returned, they had dinner together as a group for the first time. As Antoine was still too weak to get out of bed, the small gathering was held in the basement.

 

“Any news of Fernand?” asked Pablo once they had all finished eating. Saúl shook his head.

 

“His house is empty and shop closed. I asked around and nobody has seen him since a week ago. It seems that he has left without telling anyone his whereabouts.”

 

“Has he betrayed us or has his cover been compromised?” asked Josué very concerned.

 

“I really don’t know. I can only hope that Fernand has detected danger before they got to him.” Saúl was equally worried.

 

“Does anyone you have talked to suspect you of anything?” Pablo needed to make sure Saúl was safe. He could not afford to lose anyone else.

 

“I don’t think so,” mused Saúl, “I pretended to be a customer of his shop and they seemed to buy it. Said that I wasn’t the only one asking. Many of his regulars are concerned too.”

 

“That’s a relief,” Antoine seemed happy with the response, “Surely you have not given them any cause for suspicion.”

 

“Still,” Pablo was much harder to convince and he would rather be cautious than sorry, “I think we should delay going into town until we know what is going on. Fernand knows both Antoine and me well. If he is captured or turned to the Germans, we will be in grave danger. He may not know Saúl but I want to be extra careful.”

 

“Are we to do nothing then?” cried Antoine, “while the Jews are being rounded up and sent to concentration camps? There must be something we can do!”

 

“You will do nothing. In fact, you are not to leave this room until you are fully healed,” replied Pablo a little too sternly, regretting it instantly when he saw the pout on Antoine’s face. With a softer voice, he put his hands on Antoine’s gently, “I just want you to be safe. I have lost enough of my brothers in the past week. I cannot lose any more of you.”

 

“But…” Antoine’s response was interrupted by Josué, who asked Pablo directly, “What have you found about the Jews?”

 

Pablo sighed. He didn’t know if he should tell them the harsh truth, for he feared that they had had enough bad news for a day. The situations of the Jews were dire indeed. Back at the beginning of the deportations, only grown men were targeted. Even though it meant the breaking up of many families, it was nothing compared to the current day horror, where women and children were being dragged out of their hideouts to be stuffed into trucks to be sent to the east. Pablo could never forget the looks on those children’s faces, already so thin and malnourished, the looks of confusion, fear, sadness, and pure innocence. His heart broke so many times when the mothers tried desperately to shield their children from harm but to no avail. Never could he understand how humanity would be capable of such cruelty. Yet he could not hide this away from his brothers. They would know it one way or the other and he would rather they hear it from him than witnessing it themselves or worse, in Josué’s case, possibly be part of it.

 

After Pablo told them what he had witnessed, the whole room fell silent. Josué wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. Pablo put a calming hand on his slender shoulder while Saúl said in a low fierce voice, “We will never that happen to you. We will protect you with our lives. We swear.”

 

“We must do something,” Antoine’s tone was determined, “Maybe we cannot do any more military sessions at this point unless we can recruit more people. But there’s got to be some measures we can take.”

 

“I have given it some thoughts and I’m honestly at a loss as for what we can do at this point,” sighed Pablo, “It’s imprudent to try to recruit anyone at this point, with the situation so volatile and difficult. We don’t know who to trust and whether they’re on the lookout for us. Even trying to smuggle Jews out will be hard, with increased surveillance from the Milice. If you have any better ideas, I’m all ears.”

 

“So what we need, is something that can be done with just the four of us, not too complicated but very stealthy and very effective,” Josué quirked an eyebrow, “seems pretty hopeless if you ask me.”

 

“There might be a way,” said Saúl slowly. “It might be entirely crazy and suicidal, but it’s got to be better than nothing. So why don’t we assassinate Louis Dubois?” 

 

The effect was quite spectacular. Antoine choked on what could only be his own saliva and coughed violently. Josué’s mouth was wide open and his eyes were big as saucers. Pablo wasn’t sure if he was getting so old that he was hearing problems or even hallucinations, “I’m sorry?”

 

“I think it’s the best plan we’ve got,” replied Saúl calmly, “First of all, he’s a fascist pig who unfortunately is the Commissioner General for Jewish Affairs. I don’t know about you, but I hate his guts. Ever since he took the office, the persecution of Jews has magnified ten-fold. If we want to help them, this is the most effective way. It will also send those Nazi bastards a message.”

 

“Yes, that is all very well.” Pablo was more than a little exasperated. He thought Saúl was smarter than this, “but how is this something that we can do by ourselves? If efficiency is what you’re looking for, why don’t you go kill that Nazi maniac Hitler? It would certainly solve all our problems.”

 

“Actually, we might be able to pull it off.” Saúl was not deterred in the slightest. As much as Pablo hated Saúl’s stubbornness sometimes, he also admired this about the young man. “We are not going to do it the violent way. He’s too protected for that and we’ll all be killed or captured. But we do have a very good physician here, who I happen to know is also an expert in different kinds of poison. If we can poison that sorry bastard, this could work.”

 

“I certainly don’t doubt that Josué can poison whomever he wishes,” smirked Antoine before turning serious, “But who’s going to do it? If he’s that well-protected, how can we even get close to him? He might be an idiot but he surely can’t be that stupid to let any stranger serve him food or drinks.”

 

“And that brings me to my last point. We need someone either close enough to him that he can trust or important enough that he will not question. I doubt we can manage the first any time soon. But I do have a candidate for the second option.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get my history right but please forgive me if I didn't. The historical inspiration for Louis Dubois is Louis Darquier.


	22. Period 4 - 1943 AD

The next month saw repeated discussions on details of the plan. To Pablo’s slight surprise and relief, Jorge agreed to this suicidal mission without any hesitation. His reply to Saúl’s cryptic request was a simple “Anything for you”. Antoine would not stop teasing Saúl for a whole week. The excuse of Jorge’s visit was to meet a fellow art enthusiast on his way to visit his father in Germany. As Jorge had already planned to make a stop in Vichy and did possess quite a few fine art pieces, this would not look out of place. Saúl volunteered to be Jorge’s butler that accompanied him all the way from Spain and Pablo knew Saúl too well to stop him. Even though Pablo was reluctant to let Antoine on this mission, the young man could not be stopped.

 

“We need a local Frenchman on this mission and I am the only option,” protested Antoine, “You don’t look French enough and your French accent is still borderline atrocious. Josué can barely leave the house without being rounded up and sent to hell before you can say ‘unfair’. I will be their driver. It makes perfect sense.”

 

“You can pose as Jorge’s bodyguard,” suggested Saúl, “Jorge’s current bodyguard is called Pablo and he is about your age with a similar build and looks. Jorge assured me that he can be trusted, for Jorge saved his family several years ago. We can easily switch him with you and nobody will be any wiser.”

 

Begrudgingly, Pablo acquiesced because both Antoine and Saúl had some very good points. He felt slightly better now that he was going and could watch over Antoine, but Pablo hated to leave Josué on his own given the current situation. If there was one thing that was clear, that was Pablo must protect Josué at all costs, for Pablo owed his life to Josué and his father, Dr Jiménez. When Pablo was captured as a Republican, he thought that the only thing awaiting him would be the gallows. But miraculously, his old friend Dr Jiménez, who left Spain for France after he married his French Jewish wife, was a friend of the prison physician. Thanks to him, Pablo was smuggled out of the prison and transported to France. The Jiménezes welcomed him with open arms and helped him settle in France. When the Jewish persecution started, however, Pablo could only in time to save Josué. Dr Jiménez, who would not have been subjected to deportation, went with his wife willingly, determined not to leave her side. The only thing he asked Pablo, was to keep his son safe, a promise Pablo would never break, even if it meant sacrificing himself. Thanks to Antoine Maçon, a local French who owned this rather isolated farmhouse, Pablo had been able to hide Josué away from the Milice and he intended to do that for as long as he was able.

 

“The other thing we must decide,” said Saúl matter-of-factly, “is what to do if we’re compromised. My thinking is that some of us should take the blame so Jorge could be spared and return home. If we can convince them Jorge is unaware of the plan, after all, he has no motive, he could come back and help more.”

 

“I agree,” nodded Antoine, “If they discover our plan, we will say that Jorge and Pablo had no idea about the assassination.”

 

“Absolutely not!” growled Pablo. He would never ever let Antoine take the blame while he himself walked free. It was his job to protect them, not the other way around. But Antoine shushed him with a firm hand.

 

“For heaven’s sake Pablo, let me finish!” The look on Antoine’s young face could only be described as fierce, which made Pablo silent. Despite his young age and cheerful disposition, Antoine was someone to be trifled with. Besides, Antoine was right. Pablo should at least hear him out. “We will tell them that we’ve used Jorge to achieve our mission. Saúl tricked Jorge because he was his former lover. And I am recruited and vouched for by Saúl. This way, Jorge is no more than a lovesick boy tricked by the enemy.”

 

“Why can’t it be the other way around?” piped up Pablo, “Why can’t I be the one who helped Saúl while you’re just an innocent driver.”

 

“Because you stand a better chance of getting out of it!” said Antoine almost exasperatedly, “Listen, Pablo, I’m not doing this because I’m a saint with a suicidal wish. I’m doing it because it’s the only way. Saúl said that you share the name, age, build, and look of Jorge’s bodyguard. If they phone Jorge’s father to verify, which I am sure they will, he can very well believe you are real based on their descriptions. For me to prove my innocence, however, I have to let them do all the necessary checks on me, which will inevitably lead them here, to my family estate. Do you want them to find Josué here? Don’t you see? There is no other way. Someone has to come back to Josué and it has to be you.”

 

Pablo was speechless. Antoine was dead on with every single point. If it was just his life, Pablo would not blink to sacrifice himself for Antoine. But he could not endanger Josué as well. There was really no other way.

 

“Fine,” sighed Pablo, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. “Your arguments are valid and we must do what is best for all. If it comes down to this, you and Saúl will take the blame. But then you will…” Pablo swallowed hard, finding it to finish the sentence.

 

Antoine’s blue eyes locked with his own and Pablo felt overwhelmed by the emotions, courage, determination, respect, and perhaps, just perhaps, reciprocated tender love. “It may never come to this,” said Antoine softly, “Josué is brilliant and he has been working very hard to find the right poison. If we’re lucky, we might be able to get out of this in one piece.”

 

The last part was at least true. The poison they needed must be something tasteless with a delayed effect that would give them enough time to get away before the target was killed. Ideally, the symptoms would be similar to that of natural causes to avoid implicating any one of them but most importantly, Jorge. Josué had devoted himself to the job wholeheartedly. In fact, the rest of the residents of Maçon farmhouse barely saw Josué for the rest several weeks, as he spent most of his time in his room, reading through medical books while experimenting different poisons on animals Pablo had managed to capture.

 

Finally, after a month of experimentation, Josué had emerged from his room with a tiny vial and a satisfied smile on his face. “I think I’ve just found the perfect one, Ricin. It’s very easy to make, as long as you’ve got castor beans. I can easily purify it in the kitchen.”

 

“What are the symptoms?” asked Pablo. 

 

“There are many different manifestations, depending on the method of exposure” explain Josué, “But if ingested, the symptoms will be limited to the digestive system, with pain, inflammation, and haemorrhage amongst the common symptoms.”

 

“You’re sure it’s going to work?” Saúl clearly wanted to be absolutely sure, “that it will not only get the job done but also leave us enough time to escape. 

 

“It’s a slow-releasing poison,” confirmed Josué, “Depending on the dosage, it could take as long as five days to kill the victim.”

 

“Dubois is no victim,” retorted Antoine but Josué shook his head, “He might be a murderer with blood on his hand. But he’s still going to be the victim of a poisoning. Let’s not forget that. Let’s not trivialise the loss of a life. Let’s not turn into Dubois.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit short. The bit about Ricin is mostly accurately, though I'm not sure if Ricin is tasteless.


	23. Period 4 - 1943 AD

The plan for Operation Toledo was set in motion. Saúl had informed Jorge, who sent his bodyguard Pablo to their farmhouse while Jorge himself stayed in Vichy. To everyone’s great relief, the two Pablos indeed resembled each other quite a lot. The other Pablo agreed to stay in the farmhouse with Josué in case something happened while the others set for Vichy to meet Jorge.

 

“Please be careful,” Josué’s dark eyes were filled with concern. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You just make sure you all come back here!”

 

“Stop fretting doc,” laughed Antoine optimistically, “You have found the best poison for us and our plan will work. I’m still young. I’m not planning on ending my life over this slimy, twisted, backstabbing bastard. We will serve him the justice he deserves and come back to you.”

 

Still not entirely convinced, Josué nodded. When he turned to Pablo, he simply hugged the older man and whispered, “Whatever obligation you may feel towards me, forget about it. You’ve done enough for me, Pablo. If anything happens, save yourself and your love.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took them a day to reach Vichy, for they had to cover their tracks carefully. Once they were in the city, Antoine bid them goodbye. They had agreed on a later meeting point where Antoine would “accidentally” run into Saúl, who would hire him on the spot as their driver. After Antoine’s departure, Saúl sneaked Pablo into Jorge’s hotel.

 

Jorge as it turned out, was a pleasant young man. Despite his privileged background, he was humble and down-to-earth. Pablo had always prided himself on his ability to read people and the only things he could glean from the young man’s face were sincerity and love. The ease and trust between him and Saúl eased Pablo’s tension and filled him with perhaps a little bit of jealousy. He had gradually come to realise his own feelings for the young Antoine but he doubted that they would have the chance to explore it. No matter how confident Antoine felt or how well thought-out their plan was, Pablo simply could not shake off the premonition that something would go terribly wrong.

 

They waited a day before bringing Antoine in, for fearing of raising suspicion. Jorge’s request for a meeting with Louis Dubois the day after had been granted. In the meantime, they rehearsed the scenario several times in the hotel. Jorge was to engage the Commissioner in admiring the paintings he had brought from Spain while Saúl served them drinks. The tricky part was to slip the poison into Dubois’s glass without him noticing it. The amount of poison was also crucial. Too much would kill Dubois too fast for them to escape while too little would not achieve their goals. Saúl took Josué’s instruction to heart and had been practising so much that he became quite the expert.

 

When the day finally came, none of them could really focus on anything. Pablo refused Saúl’s half-hearted suggestion to rehearse again, fearing that this would only add to the already high stress level in the company. Instead, he suggested that they all relax and occupy themselves with something else, which was easier said than done. But sooner rather than later, Pablo found Saúl and Jorge cuddled together in the corner of the living room, whispering in each other’s ears. Feeling a pang of longing, he turned instinctively to Antoine.

 

The blonde was sitting on the sofa, his feet tucked underneath in an almost childlike manner. Flipping randomly through the pages of a book, he had a half impatient half anxious expression on his face. When he looked down, a lock of unruly golden hair fell loose in front of his eyes and Pablo almost couldn’t resist the urge to brush it out of his eyes. When Antoine looked up though, his eyes caught Pablo’s and he flashed a most dazzling smile at the older man. It was that fateful moment that Pablo felt the clenching of his chest and his fast-beating heart. Realisation hit him like a stampeding horse that he was irrevocably and hopelessly in love with his golden boy, except it might be a bit too late.

 

Or was it? Words failed Pablo utterly as Antoine jumped up from his seat, strode across the room towards him, determination etched on his face. When he sat down and put his smaller hand on top of Pablo’s, Pablo thought that his heart had just stopped and he might suffer a tragic premature death. Antoine’s smile, however, was so warm and comforting that Pablo eventually rediscovered his airway. He tentatively placed his other hand on top of Antoine’s, which brought such a bright sparkle to Antoine’s eyes that Pablo felt no words were necessary. Instead, he simply wrapped his arm around Antoine’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head when the younger man rested his head on Pablo’s shoulder with a content sigh. There and then, Pablo felt he could die a happy man with no regret.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They set out after dinner, Jorge dressed in his formal dinner suit. They had decided to visit after dinner to avoid the chance of being delayed due to a dinner invitation. They were also hoping that their host and his household would be too drunk to react fast enough. The townhouse of Dubois was a beautiful one located at the edge of the town. Once they were invited inside, Pablo had to be impressed by the design and taste of the owner. He doubted that this was the work of Dubois though. Most of the high-ranking Nazi officials forcefully seized the houses from their previous wealthy owners, quite a few of them Jewish, banishing them to concentration camps to await their death. This made Pablo sick.

 

“Ah good evening Señor Merodio,” Dubois greeted them with a somewhat sycophant smile, “Welcome to my humble abode. I trust your father is in good health.”

 

“Perfectly, sir. Thank you very much,” Jorge’s reply was courteous yet dignified. He then turned to introduce his company, “Please allow me to introduce Señor Saúl Elche, a dear friend of mine since childhood.” They had decided to use real names for everyone except Pablo because if their plan had failed, Jorge had to prove that he was telling the truth.

 

“Enchanté,” the Minister made a little bow while eyeing Saúl appreciatively. His reaction to Pablo and Antoine, however, were much less enthusiastic. A curt nod was all they got.

 

After Jorge had exchanged some more pleasantries, most of which centred on Jorge’s father, and shared several drinks with Dubois, they got to the topic of Jorge’s visit.

 

“Please let me know what is your opinion of these pieces of artwork,” Jorge waved towards the paintings Pablo brought out, “My father, a brilliant art critique himself, spoke highly of your fine taste.”

 

“The Ambassador flatters,” smiled Dubois smugly, “I do have some experience in the world of art before but nothing to speak of. But do tell, is it a Dalí? Such a fine young artist who has suffered most unfairly for his views. How came you by this?”

 

“You have keen eyes, sir. Indeed it is. I have acquired it under rather peculiar circumstances,” said Jorge politely.

 

The Minister snorted, “These are special times my young friend. We who have worked hard for the Führer deserve some rewards, do we not? Besides, what a waste it will be to leave these precious works of art in the hands of those undeserving Jews! All they ever know is money.”

 

Pablo shot a concerned glance at his younger companions, particularly Antoine and Saúl. He knew how strongly those two felt about the injustice the Jews had suffered at the hands of Nazis. This kind of blatant lies was almost bound to set them off. To his great relief, neither of their smiles faltered, although Pablo could tell the ever so slight pursing of Antoine’s lips. Jorge on the other hand, was an excellent actor.

 

“Very wise words indeed, sir,” agreed Jorge seriously, “We owe much of our fortune to the Führer, well, in my father’s case, Señor Franco too. Without them, we would not be who we are today and the world would not be what it is.”

 

“Bravo,” the Minister clapped his hand enthusiastically on Jorge’s back, “spoken like a true son of your father.”

 

“May I propose a toast to the Führer and the Prime Minister?” Saúl poured both Jorge and Dubois some wine and raised his glass with a smile. The plan was for Saúl to initiate and serve drinks throughout the night so when he delivered the poison, it would not appear suspicious. To everyone’s great relief, Dubois accepted the toast heartily with a booming “Heil Hitler” and downed it in one gulp.

 

And the art appraisal went on for at least another two hours. Despite his great contempt for Dubois, Pablo had to admit that he was a fine art critique. He could identify all the paintings they had brought and shown them his personal collection with a boasting story of how he came by each one of them. What really pleased Pablo, however, was the amount of alcohol consumed by the Minister, who was rather tipsy by the end of it. A significant look from Jorge told them that it was time to wrap up the evening.

 

“Please forgive my manners,” Jorge bowed to Dubois politely, “I have enjoyed this evening with immensely. But I’m afraid I must take my leave. I depart for Germany early tomorrow morning and my father is waiting eagerly for my arrival. Any more delay would cause him great displeasure.”

 

“I understand of course,” Dubois patted Jorge’s shoulder in a familiar manner. Pablo had to applaud Jorge, whose kind unobtrusive nature possessed the unique quality of letting people’s guard down and gaining their trust. “I certainly do not wish to keep you from your father any longer. It has been a great pleasure meeting you. You are a fine young man who will do right in the Reich.”

 

“You flatter sir,” smiled Jorge, “But I shall take your kind words to heart. As a sign of my appreciation, I implore you to take this painting that you are so fond of.”

 

Dubois’s face lit up at once, “Oh my dear boy, this is too much. A painting of such value surely cannot be parted from your family collection.”

 

“I assure you that I am within my perfect liberty to bestow this gift to whomever I choose and I cannot think of anyone more worthy. Please, I insist.”

 

“Such generosity,” muttered Dubois, caressing the frame of the painting lovingly, “such friendship. I cannot express my gratitude.”

 

“Then we must drink to it,” exclaimed Saúl loudly, “To friendship!” With that, he took Dubois’s glass and poured more wine into it. His breath caught, Pablo watched in slow motion as Dubois took the glass and drank the wine unsuspectingly. He exchanged a quick gleeful look with Antoine. Their job was done!

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they were ready to head out, Dubois insisted upon seeing them to the door. Jorge accepted the gesture gracefully, not wishing to cause any suspicion. Unfortunately, Dubois was already quite drunk. He got up from his chair clumsily, his voice louder and louder. Before he could make it out of the living room, however, Dubois in his drunken state accidentally tripped over his feet and crashed to the floor, prompting one of his servants to rushed to the room to see to him.

 

“Are you feeling quite well sir?” The servant was tall and somewhat menacing-looking. There was an exotic look on his feature that Pablo could not quite place. The servant extended an eager helping hand to Dubois, who batted it away impatiently.

 

“I’m perfectly fine. Can’t you see I’m in the company of good friends?” slurred Dubois, who got up with the help of Pablo, “Now quit nagging me and get out of my way you half-breed.”

 

Giving Dubois an almost resentful look, the servant bowed deeply and turned to leave. Judging by the looks on Antoine’s face, Pablo could tell his young friend felt sorry for the servant, which brought another wave of warmth and affection to his heart. When the servant’s eyes met Antoine’s, the latter gave him a sweet reassuring smile, which stopped the servant dead on his track.

 

“What is your problem now?” Dubois almost barked, swaying on his feet. His face was turning red and Pablo felt his heart stop. Could the poison work too fast?

 

“I think,” frowned the servant, “I have seen this young gentleman before.”

 

“So what if you have?” snorted Dubois, “This boy is a local recruited as Señor Merodio’s driver. Perhaps you’ve run into him in the market.” He turned to Jorge, “Please forgive my idiotic servant. His blood is not pure as ours. Half-blood inevitably brings half-wit.”

 

“Forgive me, sir,” said the servant slowly, his voice filling Pablo with dread, “But I have not run into him in any random market. In fact, I have seen him in close company of Fernand Tour.”


	24. Period 4 - 1943 AD

“What is this ruckus?” a deep booming voice with a distinct Spanish accent came from the hallway. The voice belonged to a Spanish officer in his early 30s. Although his height was not impressive, he had a strong build and a fierce face that made it almost impossible to underestimate him. What really puzzled Pablo, however, was why a Franconian officer doing in the house of Dubois.

 

“Ah Major Sánchez,” Dubois smiled at the officer and waved him forward, “Please allow me to introduce you to some of your fellow countrymen. Why you might even know this young man, certainly his father. This is Señor Merodio and here is his friend Señor Elche. These two are, well, Señor Merodio’s servants.”

 

“Delighted to make your acquaintance,” Jorge brought on his charm again. If he was feeling nervous, he did not betray it one bit. “I have not the pleasure to meet you before but I am sure you are a fine officer of our country. Pray what brings you to France.”

 

“Even though I have had the pleasure of meeting your father the Ambassador, my purpose here is not something I can discuss with you,” replied Major Sánchez cooly and Pablo’s heart sank. He could tell they were in trouble, for this officer was sharp and relentless. “Delighted I might be, I must ask the meaning of this servant’s proclamation.”

 

The servant piped up immediately. Puffing his chest up, he addressed Major Sánchez with ill-disguised eagerness, “Of course sir, it will be my pleasure to assist. I have seen this young man,” he pointed at Antoine without any hesitation, “talking to Fernand Tour in a close and secretive manner several times.”

 

“Ah,” smirked Major Sánchez, “Monsieur Tour, or shall I say, Señor Torres. Such unoriginality in picking a pseudonym speaks volume of the limited intellect of those enemies of the state. Now tell me,” he turned to Antoine, his eyes piercing, “what is your relation with this traitor?”

 

Trying hard to school his expression into an astonished disbelief, Pablo was panicking inside, thousands of questions racing through his mind. Would it really come down to this? Could Antoine keep his composure and maybe, with some luck, convince this cunning ruthless Spanish officer that he was nothing but a regular acquaintance of Fernand? So Fernand had not sold them to the Nazis but he was compromised nonetheless. Had Fernand told them anything yet? But most importantly, what could he do to protect his beloved Antoine?

 

Despite the precarious situation, Antoine had managed to rein his emotions. Feigning an affronted innocence, he exclaimed indignantly, “I have nothing to do with any traitors! I know Fernand because I frequent his shop, which I might remind you, loads of people do, but nothing more. I have no idea he’s not French, let alone an enemy of the state!”

 

Eyeing Antoine distrustfully, Major Sánchez turned to the servant, “What says you? Can you prove that their relations are more than shopkeeper and customer?”

 

“Of course,” nodded the servant eagerly. Whatever sympathy Pablo might have felt for him had dissipated completely. This servant might be a victim of the crazy Nazi racial policy, but he was still a despicable man willing to step on others to advance himself. “I saw them meeting in the backyard of the shop. It’s not somewhere that mere customers go to. I also saw them passing packages to each other, clearing hiding something.”

 

“If the backyard is not somewhere customers go to, how do you know we were meeting there?” retorted Antoine angrily, “And if you suspect something, why do you not say something earlier? Are you just making this up so you can look good in front your master you pathetic little man?”

 

Before Major Sánchez and the servant could say anything though, Dubois waved his hand casually, “Now now, Major. You’re not taking the words of a half-breed over a nice French young man, are you? This young man comes with Señor Merodio. Surely that alone should vouch for his innocence. I appreciate your concern but Señor Merodio is my esteemed guest. Let us not be paranoid over the word of a lowly servant.”

 

Jorge bowed to Dubois in recognition and Pablo let out a breath he did not realise he was holding. Never had he felt so grateful towards Louis Dubois. The look the servant gave them could only be described as resentful but he held his tongue, clearly too afraid of his master to disobey. Major Sánchez on the other hand, did not look at all convinced. Yet he was a guest after all. Nodding curtly to Dubois, he turned on the spot and left the room without addressing Jorge and his company.

 

“Don’t mind ‘im”, mumbled Dubois drunkenly, “Quite an unpleasant fella if you ask me. But still, he’s my guest and he’s here to help sniff out those exiled Republicans who are aiding the enemies. I do wish they could send someone more agreeable but I suppose he’s the convenient choice since he’s in France already and has nothing to do after Operation Nurnberg is called off.”

 

Pablo exchanged a quick look with Antoine and Saúl. This was valuable pieces of information. He had never expected Dubois to reveal this much when he was drunk. Though he had never heard of Operation Nurnberg, Pablo assumed it had something to do with the quickly deteriorating situation of Nazi Germany. Clearly, Franco was concerned too. More importantly, the Nazis were suspecting Spanish Republicans’ involvement in the Resistance. They needed to extra caution from now on.

 

“We understand where the Major is coming from and we respect his dedication to his job,” said Jorge amiably, “Your support is most appreciated though Commissioner. I will remember to speak to my father about your friendship and trust.”

 

The Commissioner smirked smugly. No matter how drunk he was, he would not pass up the opportunity to advance his position. After exchanging final farewells, Jorge insisted that the Commissioner stay while they took their leave.

 

“Phew that was close,” muttered Antoine in a low voice once they were outside the townhouse. “Thank goodness the Dubois bastard was drunk out of his mind.”

 

Pablo smiled fondly at his younger friend. He himself was very impressed with Antoine’s composure and quick wit under such stress. Before he could express his feelings though, the noise from Dubois’s house made them all stop. Amongst all the commotion came the loud and clear voice of Major Sánchez, “Someone has tried to poison the Commissioner. Don’t let them get away!”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Pablo sometimes wondered why fate would be so cruel that it would give them hope only to take it away in the blink of an eye. Before any one of them could protest, they were rounded up and taken back into the townhouse they so very nearly escaped. In the middle of the living room lay Dubois, lifeless and very much dead. Major Sánchez had taken control of the situation, barking orders to everyone.

 

“Secure the Commissioner’s body and the crime scene. Nobody is to touch anything. Get a chemist and physician in as quickly as you can so we can get everything tested, especially that bloody wine and the glass.”

 

Pablo’s heart sank. They would find out the truth. A simple test would reveal the presence of the deadly poison and someone had to explain how it came to be there. He doubted that they could all get out of this one. Somehow, despite all their planning and precautions, it would eventually come down to this. Fate really was quite cruel.

 

A physician and chemist was summoned quickly enough. While waiting for the results, Pablo, Antoine, and Saúl were locked in the basement of the townhouse until further notice. Jorge, on the other hand, was confined to Major Sánchez’s room.

 

“Please forgive my manners,” the Major’s tone was anything but apologetic, “But I must insist that you stay in my room until we have a better grasp on the situation. I’d hate to doubt your loyalty but surely you understand the unique circumstances.”

 

Jorge’s face was pale yet calm. Keeping his composure, he managed a small smile, “Of course I understand. I am terribly sorry about the tragic death of the Commissioner and I want nothing more than to find his killer. Please do not hesitate to ask if there’s anything I can do to help.”

 

Nodding with satisfaction, the Major guided Jorge to his room. Pablo dreaded this separation, which he was sure was done on purpose. His mind working frantically, Pablo was trying his best to find a way out but his mind failed him miserably. Once the physician had finished his examination, Major Sánchez would know that the Commissioner was poisoned. Someone had to take the blame.

 

Once they were locked in the basement by themselves, Antoine flung himself into Pablo’s arms. Thousands of emotions raced through Pablo’s heart, which all settled into a fervent kiss. His eye widening in shock, Antoine froze for a second, before relaxing into the kiss and returning it with equal passion. His lips were even softer than Pablo had imagined and tasted of wine and something faintly sweet, which was so uniquely Antoine that Pablo felt almost overwhelmed with sensation. He had lost track of space and time, for the only thing that mattered that moment was Antoine’s body pressed pliantly against his own, his lips locked with his own, and his scent mixed with his own.

 

Minutes later, or perhaps it had been years, they parted to catch their breaths. Looking down, Pablo saw the most enticing picture his whole life, Antoine with his hair dishevelled, his lips red and slightly swollen, his cheek pink, and his eyes strikingly bright. Choked with his own emotion, he could not get a word out.

 

“I do not regret a minute of this,” smiled Antoine, bright and sad at the same time, “I’m sorry I have to leave you behind but I’m so happy that we get to share this last moment together.”

 

The determined look on Antoine’s face almost broke Pablo’s heart, which had been hardened from the hardship and sufferings he had experienced and witnessed all these years. Yet he knew that he could not and would not try to change Antoine’s mind, for it was the only way forward, the most cost-effective one that would perhaps allow some of them to make out of this alive. While his heart screamed to save his lover or to die with him, his mind told him to be practical, to make the most out of an already dire situation, and to not let his lover’s sacrifice done in vain. So instead he simply whispered, “Are you scared?”

 

Antoine’s lip trembled and his smile faltered. Wrapping his arms around Pablo’s waist, Antoine hid his face in Pablo’s chest to hide his moment of weakness. “I am. I’m scared what they’ll do to me. I’m scared they won’t believe our story. I’m scared that they’ll take you too.”

 

“Oh my love,” cried Pablo, his resolve finally breaking, “how can I let you go now?”

 

“You must,” Antoine looked up and locked his eyes with Pablo’s, “You know you must. I might be scared but I will find my strength. I am not the first one to go through this. Remember the paintings from Toledo? They had done the same and they had faced their destiny with great courage and honour. I will do the same. I know I will. After all, you have taught me well, haven’t you?”

 

“Sometimes I wish I have never recruited you,” the pain in Pablo’s voice was obvious. He looked at Saúl too, hoping the other youngster would understand, “I wish I have left you alone in peace, rather than risking your life before you even have the chance to live it fully. You’re both too young to die.”

 

“But we have lived it fully,” said Saúl quietly, “more than most others. I would rather live a short life full of meaning and love, than a long mundane one.”

 

“You made us who we are,” even in this most dangerous and dire situation, Antoine had managed to get some of his cheeks back, “I don’t know about you. But I kind of like who we are. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

A little more than an hour had passed before the Major descended into the basement with a stormy expression. “The results are out. I doubt you’ll be surprised, seeing that you’re the only suspect. Now we have two ways of doing this: either you confess or I torture it out of you. We can see how much longer you last than Fernando Torres.”

 

Determined to play his part, Pablo barked at Major Sánchez, “How dare you suspect me? I have been working for the Merodios for more than 5 years and have saved the lives of them more than you could count. You can ask the Ambassador to verify. I would never betray the trust of the Ambassador nor Señor Jorge. Or are you be so bode and crazy as to suspect the Ambassador or his son?”

 

“Oh rest assured we will contact the Ambassador about you,” replied the Major coolly, his eyes fixed on Pablo for any sign of deception. Schooling his expression carefully, Pablo only allowed himself to show indignation and disgust, while not making eye contact with Antoine nor Saúl. “Where is Señor Jorge? If you dare mistreat him…”

 

“He’s perfectly fine,” snapped the Major angrily, “Drinking from Monsieur Dubois’s cellar in fact. Nobody is foolish enough to ill-treat him.”

 

“Good. At least you have some sense. Normally it’s my responsibility to look after him and guarantee his safety but since I’m here,” spat Pablo, “I must rely on you and your man. Lord help us! I need extra security on Señor Jorge. Whoever killed Dubois could be after him too!”

 

Judging by the expression on Major Sánchez’s face, he was partially convinced. Summoning his soldier, he gave rapid instructions on doubling the security on Jorge before turning back to Pablo, “If I can verify your identity from the Ambassador, your name will be cleared and you will be allowed to go back to Señor Jorge. Now, can you tell me if any of those two can be trusted?”

 

Turning slowly to Saúl and Antoine, Pablo felt as if time had stopped. Beneath the calm and defiant expression on the youngsters’ face, he could detect the tumultuous emotions raging through them. Swallowing hard, he returned his gaze back to the Major and uttered the most difficult and heartbreak three words of his life, “No, I cannot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the scientific inaccuracies, for I don't think Ricin can kill someone so quickly if ingested. But needs must :)


	25. Period 4 - 1943 AD

“You’re free to go back to Señor Jorge.”

 

It only took them 10 minutes to get in contact with the Ambassador, who besides being livid that his only son was involved and potentially implicated in such a scheme, confirmed their description of Pablo.

 

Nodding silently to Major Sánchez, Pablo left the basement without a backward glance at Saúl or Antoine. His heartbreaking and his gut-wrenching, he hated his rational self for keeping a composed front while all he wanted to do was to throw himself at his love, protecting him against the world. Yet still he walked, not catching perhaps the last glimpse of the love of his life, so he could protect at least Jorge and maybe Josué.

 

Jorge as it turned out, was well looked after. The Major’s room was comfortable and a vintage bottle of wine was retrieved from the cellar to entertain Jorge. The young man was pale though, his eyes downcast, and it did not take a genius to figure out why.

 

“How are they?” Even though they were alone with the room door locked, Jorge’s voice was barely louder than a whisper.

 

Closing his eyes, Pablo allowed pain to wash over him. Truth be told, he wished he would not have to answer that question because answering it would make it final, make it real, make it unbelievably painful. He had always considered himself a strong man, toughened by life. Yet this pain was too hard to bear that he did not know how he could live through it. After taking a deep breath, he finally told Jorge what had happened in that basement.

 

“So the plan was set in motion,” Jorge’s face was white as a sheet and he seemed to be swaying on the spot. Instinctively Pablo rushed forward to support him. “After everything we’ve done, it has to come down to this.” Silent tears were streaming down his youthful face and he was biting his cheeks so hard not to cry.

 

“I know this is hard,” croaked Pablo with great difficulty. Yet somehow seeing the broken Jorge gave him more strength to carry on. He had to be strong for his young friend. He had to help him get through this. “I may never forgive myself for condemning Saúl and Antoine to this. But we cannot let them sacrifice themselves in vain. We have to get out of here alive. It is our duty to carry on living for them.”

 

It took Jorge a while to calm down from his emotions, during which time Pablo simply held him and rocked him gently. When Jorge finally wiped his tears away, he still looked sad but there was something beneath that anguish too, determination for vengeance. “I will not let them die in vain! I will carry on Saúl’s work even if I have to sacrifice my own life. But you’re right; we need to get out of this situation. Do you think the Major believes our innocence?”

 

This was a difficult question, which left Pablo pondering for a while. It was true that the Major’s words seemed to indicate that he was no longer suspicious of them, yet experience taught Pablo to be cautious. The Major was not the gullible type, nor was he someone greedy and ambitious that he would settle for a scapegoat as long as he could advance his career. If anything, he seemed like a dedicated soldier determined to find out the truth. Even Saúl and Antoine’s confession might not be enough to appease him. After confiding in Jorge his concerns, the younger man sighed.

 

“I have shared the same disquiet about Major Sánchez. From what I’ve heard back in Spain, he is a soldier extremely loyal to the Franco government. Compared to the other scums who could be bribed and fooled, he was almost honourable, apart from his obviously ill-placed loyalty. He’s loyal, efficient, ruthless with an almost spotless reputation. That’s why he has been promoted so rapidly through the ranks. I think he’s a very formidable adversary.”

 

“We have very few options left though,” sigh Pablo, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. “Any false move on our part may raise his suspicion. I think our best strategy is to stay calm and wait to see what happens. We can never let our guard down though. This will probably be a long gruelling process but we must be constantly vigilant.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Pablo’s prediction turned out to be sadly true. They had been confined within Dubois’s townhouse for a week. Even though they never lacked material comfort, the mental torture was endless. Major Sánchez visited them at least once a day, briefing them on the progress of his interrogation.

 

“The little blonde is a lot tougher than I thought,” remarked the Major darkly and Pablo had to fight the urge to throw a well-aimed punch in his face. “It’s always the unexpected ones that surprise you isn’t it? First Fernando Torres, then this Antoine Maçon. We can’t seem to beat an answer out of him. He refused to say who else is involved in the plan.”

 

“Are you certain they have accomplices?” asked Jorge cautiously.

 

“Of course,” scoffed the Major, “Something of such nature cannot be pulled by a simple farmer boy and an ex-Republican barely out of his diapers. They must have had help with the poison, the planning, everything. Frankly, I’m more concerned about their accomplices than those two-foot soldiers. Maybe the concentration camp will loosen up their tongue, though I heard they haven’t had much success with Fernando Torres yet.”

 

“Maybe we can use a different method of torturing,” suggested the servant eagerly, “If physical pain alone cannot loosen their tongue, we need something else.”

 

“What do you suggest?” asked Major Sánchez cautiously, mistrust evident in his voice. Unfortunately, the servant was either too dense or too eager to pick up the hint.

 

“Why don’t we let the lads have their ways with them?” The lewd smile on the servant’s face left no doubt on the meaning of his idea. “Many of them haven’t had any women for months and those little bastards are pretty enough. I’d say they won’t mind having a go at them. Mind you, the little Spaniard may not find it punishment though,” his lecherous gaze turned to Jorge, “he has bewitched our good young gentleman for so long, hasn’t he? Maybe he’ll even enjoy it. But what I wouldn’t give to hear that pretty blonde scream.”

 

This was too much to take. Despite his determination to play along, Pablo could not hide his anger any longer. Let the mission and his life be damned. He was not going to sit around while this worthless despicable excuse for a human being insulted his love so. Next to him, Jorge stood up as well, looking absolutely livid.

 

To their utter astonishment, Major Sánchez was outraged too. Despite his medium statue, the glare on his face was enough to reduce the pathetic servant to a shivering mess. “I will never allow such deplorable behaviour under my watch. To even suggest it is absolutely disgusting you filth. Regardless of their loyalty and ideology, those two young men have shown more courage and honour than you rat could ever dream of. They will be tortured and sent to the right place for their treacherous behaviour. But they will not be humiliated, not by the likes of you. Now apologise to Señor Jorge for your wretched behaviour and get out of my sight.”

 

After mumbling a quick apology, the servant scurried out of the room just like the rat he was. It was hard to imagine but Pablo felt a sliver of a begrudging respect and gratitude for the Major. Catching his eyes, Major Sánchez grumbled, “I meant every word I said. I will never stoop so low, even if I can never get a confession out of them. There are lines honourable gentlemen should never cross.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The final verdict of Saúl and Antoine came a week later, which was delivered in person by Major Sánchez.

 

“It has been decided,” said the Major, his face void of emotions, “I have received the direct order from Berlin that since neither of them will confess, they will be executed as quickly as possible. I suppose they don’t want to take the risks of sending them to concentration camps.”

 

The room suddenly seemed to close in on Pablo. All the noises in the world had disappeared, the only one audible was the fast thumping of his own heart. He was blind to the world yet so many images flashed in front of his eyes, Antoine laughing with his head thrown back and his nose scrunched up adorably, the mischievous twinkling in his blue eyes, the tears precious as pearls rolling down his cheeks, the wet shirt stuck to his muscular body after a good sweat, the look of pure joy and love on his face when he was wrapped in Pablo’s arms in Jorge’s hotel, and finally, his bloody lifeless body on the floor, lost forever.

 

“I hope execution will not be public,” Jorge’s raised voice jolted Pablo out of his maddening thoughts. Schooling his expression to bored nonchalance with great difficulty, Pablo turned to look at Major Sánchez and his heart sank. Apparently, his momentary lapse of judgement had cost them dearly, for the Major was looking at him with suspicion. Thanks to Jorge, however, who had managed to retain his composure despite his clenching fists behind his back, the Major no longer focused on Pablo. “No, we understand the situation is delicate and your family reputation is at stake. It will be done quietly and swiftly, two bullets and nothing more.”

 

“And my family, my father, us?” pressed Jorge.

 

“You and your bodyguard will be free to go after the execution,” the Major frowned at Pablo, “your family will not be bothered and your father’s name will not be mentioned in my report.”

 

“Good,” replied Jorge with gloom satisfaction, “Thank you, Major, for your understanding.”

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in stony silence. Despite his raging emotions, Pablo managed to remain unperturbed. Every now and then he would steal a look at Jorge but the young man betrayed no sign of outward distress. Pablo was almost inclined to believe that he was not as affected, had it not been the trembling of the younger man’s hands. Deep admiration and respect rose in his heart for the young man, and he finally understood why Saúl would trust his whole heart and life to him. 

 

Sooner than expected, they were out of the house. Pablo was just thankful that Major Sánchez told them the execution had been done before supper, for he was sure he would have thrown up all over the expensive Persian carpet otherwise. Thanking the Major hastily for his discretion, Jorge took Pablo out of the house at top speed. Relieved though he was, Pablo could not help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this was far from over. The still suspicious look on Major Sánchez’s face certainly wasn’t helping things.

 

The drive back to the hotel only took them 15 minutes, yet it was the longest and most miserable 15 minutes of Pablo’s life. Taking the driver's seat, he could not help but remember that barely a week ago, it was Antoine sitting right there, stealing glances at him with mirth and joy. Now all was lost, his love, hope, and joy. Neither Pablo nor Jorge said anything, wallowing in their own desolation. When Pablo chanced a look at the backseat, however, he could still make out the forlorn look on Jorge’s face as he looked at the seat next to him, occupied by Saúl not so long ago. Maybe they weren’t so different after all, despite their age and upbringing. Both were calm yet loved passionately. Both lost their most beloved yet would still, eventually, find the strength to carry on, not for love, but for their beliefs and faiths, and the memories of their loved ones.

 

The hotel room seemed eerily empty without the exuberant presence of Antoine and Saúl. Pablo longed to lock himself in a room and drift into sleep, where he could still pretend that Antoine was still by his side. Yet his duty prompted him to check with Jorge and to make sure they still had a plan.

 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Pablo did not bother asking Jorge how he was feeling or whether he was fine. Such trivial niceties almost felt like an insult in the face of their loss. Because of course Jorge was not fine. Neither was Pablo. How could they be?

 

“No,” mumbled Jorge, looking 10 years older than he was. “I want to be on my own. I think it best if you leave tonight so my real Pablo can make it here before sunrise. We need to leave immediately. I don’t want to give Major Sánchez an opportunity to check on us later.”

 

That made perfect sense. Personally, Pablo wouldn’t put it past the alert and overly loyal Major to sneak up on them if they stayed in Vichy, just to see if their stories check out. Once they were out of Vichy and hide their tracks, however, Pablo doubt even the Major would go on a wild goose chase across France while risking the wraths of Ambassador Merodio.

 

“I’ll take the spare car once it’s dark,” nodded Pablo, “It should only take me a couple hours to get to the farmhouse so I’m sure the other Pablo could make it back in time.” He hesitated, not sure if he had the right to inquire. But Jorge seemed to read his mind and he smiled sadly, “I’m not going to do anything foolish Pablo. Saúl wouldn’t want that. I will go to Germany to meet my father. Saúl gave his life in exchange for mine and I will not waste it. I will fight my fight there and help as many as I can.”

 

“It’s dangerous,” whispered Pablo, “To resist in the heart of Third Reich, right under Hitler’s nose is nothing short of suicide. I doubt even your father can protect you.”

 

“Then I will join my Saúl sooner than expected,” smiled Jorge, “I’m not afraid of death. I have a feeling that it is just the end of our story in this lifetime. Look at those young martyrs in Toledo. Their stories find their way to us through all this time. Maybe our story will too.”

 

An hour later, Pablo was ready to leave with all his things packed. Jorge handed him the car key in silence and Pablo hesitated. There was so much he wanted to tell the young man yet speech seemed to have evaded him. After all, he was never particularly loquacious but he doubted even Shakespeare could have found the right words after what they had been through. Jorge, however, appeared to have understood his silent hesitancy as he hugged Pablo tightly. “Take care of yourself and Josué. I hope I can see you both one day, in a much better world.”

 

“Farewell my friend,” Pablo returned the hug one last time before heading into the dark night.


	26. Period 4 - 1943 AD

“Thank goodness you’re home!” To Pablo’s surprise, it was Josué who opened the door after peeking through the cracks cautiously. Before he could berate the younger man for being so careless though, Josué almost threw himself into Pablo’s arms after realising who he was. His smile soon dropped when he saw that Pablo was all by himself.

 

“Antoine and Saúl?” His voice trembled and tears welled up in his dark eyes. Not knowing what to say, Pablo grabbed Josué and pushed him roughly into the house before locking the door, “Not here, not now.”

 

The other Pablo was in the living room and he rose up quickly upon seeing Pablo. Without losing a moment, Pablo thrust the car keys into the other’s hands. “You need to go now. Jorge is waiting for you in the hotel and you must leave as quickly as possible. There’s no time to lose.”

 

Life seemed to have been sucked out of the house. Even through the dimly-lit light, Pablo could see the big frightened eyes of Josué and the look of pure shock on Pablo’s face. Thankfully both recovered quickly enough. Josué rushed upstairs, no doubt to retrieve the other Pablo’s belongings while the other Pablo said, “Is there enough petrol to make it back?”

 

“There is a spare tank in the boot,” replied Pablo gruffly, “You probably need to use it halfway through. Once you’re there, park the car in the usual place and go to Antoine. Be careful though, someone may be watching the hotel. I’d take the backdoor just to be sure. Jorge will tell you the rest.”

 

Nodding solemnly, the Pablo grabbed the bag Josué handed him and put on a hat that shadowed most of his face. Before he opened the door, however, he turned to Josué to give him a hug, “It was great meeting you, little fella. I’ll miss your cooking. Take care!”

 

“What happened?” Josué waited until they could no longer hear the noise of the car before asking Pablo in a low voice, “Please talk to me, Pablo!”

 

Not bothered with glass, Pablo retrieved the bottle of scotch and took a hearty swig from the bottle. Josué was still watching him with anxious eyes but he was tactful enough not to push him. After what felt like an eternity, the alcohol had finally worked it magically and Pablo felt blissfully numb. Slowly, he recounted the events of the past week. It was painful, watching Josué’s face grew paler and shone with tears, almost as if he was reliving the moments again. Strangely enough, Pablo found himself devoid of tears. Perhaps he had shed the tears of a lifetime already but the only thing he felt at the moment was the vast hollowness and the deafening numbness. 

 

“Do you know how they were executed? Was it painful?” Josué’s voice was small and quiet, almost fearful.

 

Pablo shook his head. He had not asked himself the question for he did not want to even think about it. Thinking made it too real. “We did not witness the execution.” He paused for a second and added, almost compulsively, “But Major Sánchez told us that it would be just two bullets. I suppose he could have lied but he did stop that despicable servant from torturing them using deprived means. I think he held some respect for their loyalty and courage. I doubt he had tortured them. It was probably a quick and clean one.”

 

The passage of time had lost its meaning. The silence in the house was all too suffocating. The familiarity was mocking him, where every corner held secret memories taunting him, telling him what it was and what it was not to be. Unable to stand the mental torment, Pablo rose up and walked to the window, looking into the night. It must be close to dawn, as the fainting light could be seen on the horizon. Next to him, silent as a cat, Josué joined the gaze until he broke the silence.

 

“It is another day. What will become of us?”

 

The answer came to Pablo almost naturally. “We get you out of France. It’s not safe here anymore, with Antoine gone. I don’t know how much longer I can protect you before they storm into the house and take you away.” He turned to Josué with a determined expression, “I will take you to Spain where you will be safe. Then I’ll come back and join the Resistance somewhere.”

 

The look Josué gave him was pained but knowing. “I know I can’t persuade you to stay in Spain. You need to come back. I understand that. But I’m not going to flee while you fight and risk your life here. I’ll join the Resistance with you and I can be dead useful you know. I’m not leaving you, Pablo.”

 

“No!” cried Pablo adamantly and he grabbed Josué’s hands, “You must go! I have lost enough in my life and I’m not losing you too.”

 

“But…”

 

“You are going to live to tell our tales. Somebody needs to remember Antoine and Saúl. Once Jorge and I are gone, no one will know. Death is not the worst part. The worst part is to die without leaving anything behind.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Neither of them managed to wake up before midday, after having collapsed in the living room just before daybreak. Pablo was almost dazed and confused when he woke at the sound of the knock on the door. Walking groggily to the door, he still had the good sense to peek through the letterbox to see who it was outside. There was no one in view though, except the newspaper at the doorstep. Shrugging, Pablo opened the door to retrieve the newspaper when a hand clapped on his wrist and pulled him forward. Before he knew it, he was tackled to the ground with a gun pointing at his head.

 

“I knew something wasn’t right when we were in Dubois’s house,” smirked Major Sánchez, “Those two couldn’t have pulled it off by themselves. And you seemed to smart to be fooled by a nancy boy like Saúl. I have to give it to young Jorge Merodio though. He played the smitten lover boy to a tee. Was that even real, or was it just part of the plan?”

 

How could he not see that the newspaper was just a bait? Pablo could kick himself for being so careless. Now he was truly trapped, as he did not know how to convince Major Sánchez that he was not an imposter who lived in this farmhouse while the real Pablo was supposed to be travelling with Jorge to Germany. The only thing he could do at this moment was to try to alert Josué somehow so he could escape. Playing for time, he decided to act dumb.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” exclaimed Pablo in fake indignance, “How dare you question my loyalty and implicate Señor Jorge? He was badly deceived by someone he thought was his friend, someone who claimed to love him. He’s a victim too!” Keeping His voice raised and thrashing about like crazy, Pablo prayed that this ruckus would wake Josué while keeping Major Sánchez’s focus solely on him.

 

“Stop lying to me!” growled the Major, “If you’re indeed young Jorge’s bodyguard, why on earth are you doing here?”

 

Improvising on the spot, Pablo came up with a pretty reasonably lie, “Señor Jorge sent me here to investigate Saúl and his accomplices. Saúl told him he came from this area so Señor Jorge figured someone must have helped him.”

 

“So have you found them?” asked Major Sánchez in a mocking tone.

 

“No, none of the households here have even seen Saúl. He must have made it up.”

 

“What are you doing in one these farmhouses then?”

 

“I need somewhere to sleep last night and I’m having lunch here before I leave to join Señor Jorge.” invented Pablo wildly, hoping against hope that his lies might at least cast some doubts and confusion on the Major’s part. Sadly, it did not work.

 

“Bravo, sir! You’re a good storyteller,” laughed Major Sánchez, even though there was nothing but taunts in his laughter, “I would have applauded you had my hand not been busy pointing a gun at you. You would have fooled any lesser person but I happen to have followed you all the way from Vichy. I saw you going into this house last night before another man, mind you someone who looks quite like you, left. I know for a fact you have not left the house since then, which gives you no opportunity to visit the imaginary households. These are nothing but vile lies and you will pay for both your deceit and disloyalty.”

 

“No, he will not!” The loud voice of Josué was accompanied by the distinct noise of cocking a shotgun, and Pablo’s heart sank. He had failed yet another one he cared about.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Well, well, well,” Major Sánchez did not seem too perturbed by the situation, despite having a shotgun point at him. In fact, he didn’t even bother to look at Josué, which was smart as he gave Pablo no chance to fight back, “We are in a bit of a pickle, aren’t we? Who is your little friend?”

 

“Someone who’s going to take you down,” said Josué coolly, as he walked in steady steps towards them, eyes fixed on the Major. “Now move away from my friend or I’ll blast your worthless brain into a million pieces.”

 

“But not before I put a bullet to the brain of your friend surely,” smirked the Major, still looking at nobody but Pablo, “Can you live with the fact that you have practically killed your friend?”

 

“Shoot him!” cried Pablo, “Don’t worry about me. Just kill him and go!” With that, he started struggling in earnest.

 

“Stop both of you,” panted Major Sánchez as he tried to keep Pablo pinned down, “Or I’ll…”

 

His threat was lost as Pablo and Josué moved at the same time. Pablo bucked his hip so abruptly and violently that he sent the Major crashing forward above his head, practically throwing him off. Josué at the same time charged forward while whipping the shotgun around, slamming the heel into the back of the Major’s head. With barely a grunt, the Major slumped on top of Pablo, unconscious and no longer threatening.

 

It didn’t take them long to carry the unconscious Major into the house. Not wanting to leave him anywhere near Antoine or Saúl’s things, Pablo dumped the Major on his own bed. Without an additional word, Josué set about tying the Major to the bed with surprise proficiency. 

 

“Where did you learn to do that?” asked Pablo with a faint smile, the first genuine one since the events of the previous week. Josué shot him an annoyed look, “It’s not what you think! I’m a doctor! We sometimes have to bound the patients to the bed when there’s not enough anaesthetics. I suppose I could use horse tranquiliser on him but I suppose you want him conscious for questioning.” He raised a questioning eyebrow at Pablo, who had to think what exactly he planned to do the Major. Of course, he could wait until the Major was awake to question him for more information. But was it really wise? What if the Major refused to talk, which was more than likely. What if he tried to escape, or harm Josué? He was a Franco Major after all and seemed determined to be on the Nazi side. He was the one who ordered the execution of Saúl and Antoine! The thought of that brought white-hot rage to Pablo’s heart and he had to take several deep breaths before he just crushed the skull of the unconscious Major. Surely it would be more prudent and less troublesome to just…

 

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” asked Josué, his gaze intense, “Don’t you think we should at least wait until he’s awake?”

 

“What? So he can try to kill us again?” barked Pablo, clenching his fists. Josué did not seem bothered by his outburst though, as he replied calmly, “I know my ties and knots so trust me, he’s not going anywhere, conscious or not. And I don’t think he really meant to kill you back then? He wanted to take you alive.”

 

Looking incredulously at Josué, Pablo almost wanted to shake the young man, “What the hell are you talking about? Of course he wanted to kill me! He had a bloody gun pointed at my head! He killed Saúl and Antoine!”

 

“I know what he’s done,” retorted Josué, still fairly composed, “And I’m not saying that he was going to let you go. I’m merely pointing out that if he had really wanted to kill you, he would have fired when you started struggling and especially when you threw him off. It’s an almost instinctive thing to do. He didn’t do it because he wanted you to live, to question you or torture you I don’t know. But he wasn’t planning to kill you there and then.”

 

“So what do you suggest we do then?” asked Pablo exasperatedly, his head pounding so much that he wanted to throw up.

 

“We wait. Once he’s awake, we talk to him.”


	27. Period 4 - 1943 AD

Thankfully, it didn’t take that long for the Major to wake up. Once he did though, he put up a valiant fight, which proved futile. Josué did know his ties and knots.

 

“So,” Pablo could hardly hide his malicious grin, “how does it feel to be on the other end of the spectrum huh Major? This is payback time so don’t even think about getting away.”

 

Struggling like a maniac, the Major simply shot Pablo a dirty glare. Josué sighed and walked closer to the bed, which had successfully diverted Major Sánchez’s attention away from his predicament. “Major Sánchez, we have some questions for you. If you’re smart enough, which I suspect you are, you should answer us truthfully. It will save both you and us a lot of trouble.”

 

To Pablo’s surprise, the Major did not shoot back any biting remarks or looks. Instead, he simply locked his eyes with Josué in silence. His expression was almost slightly curious. Interpreting the Major’s silence as tacit compliance, Josué went on, “Are you by yourself or does someone accompany you from Vichy? If so where are they? Is anyone back in Vichy aware of where you are going? Now that Dubois is dead, what is the situation in Vichy? Is someone going to replace him? Are they still rounding up Jews?”

 

When the Major stayed silent, Pablo’s patience, which was almost negligible to start with, finally ran out. Taking an aggressive step forward, he grabbed the Major’s hair and yanked his head forward forcefully. “Listen to me you scum! You will answer the questions or we will you regret the day you were born. Now talk!”

 

“Pablo please,” cried Josué in alarm, “There’s no need for this. We should only use violence as the last resort.”

 

“For heaven’s sake Josué,” Pablo could not believe his ears. “Do you think they would have afforded us this decency? If he had managed to get his hand on you, he would have started beating you before you even have the chance to answer. Are you really this naive to believe that…”

 

“Of course I know what they’re capable of!” Josué shouted back, finally losing his composure, “I have seen enough of the atrocities they have committed. But that does not mean I’m going to lower myself to that level! I am not going to start beating people unless there’s absolutely no other option. We’re better than this! Do you think Antoine would have…”

 

“Antoine is dead because of him!” Pablo was practically screaming now. “He murdered Antoine and Saúl and you’re asking me to show him mercy?!”

 

“I did not issue the order for their execution.” The voice of the Major was so unexpected that both Pablo and Josué froze. The Major, however, was perfectly calm and he looked Josué straight in the eye. “The order was sent directly from Berlin. I am a soldier and it is my duty to obey orders. Personally, I would have preferred to send them to concentration camps like I did with Fernando Torres. But my kind wish amounted to nothing compared to…”

 

“Kind?” Josué’s voice was no more than a ghostly whisper now, “Do you have any idea what happens in the concentration camps?”

 

A quick look at Josué could tell Pablo that his friend was extremely distressed. His face pale and his body shaking slightly, the dark eyes were so bright that Pablo could swear that it would burn a hole in the Major’s face. The Major, however, seemed genuinely surprised. “I… Well, they told us that they’re prisons, aren’t they? I mean I know it can’t be good, especially in times of war but it must be better than death. I don’t understand what…”

 

“Of course you don’t!” Josué burst out so violently that Pablo abandoned Major Sánchez altogether to rush to Josué’s side to comfort him. “You’ve been living in the lies of the Nazis all this time. Or is that what you choose to believe so you can sleep at night? Because I’m telling you, it’s living hell in there! The atrocities they have committed! I…” He choked and gasped for breath. Properly panicking now, Pablo ran a soothing palm down Josué’s back while whispering, “Breathe, Josué, deep breath.”

 

Once Josué had regained his strength, he turned to Major Sánchez with a most uncharacteristically look of pure hatred in his eyes. “They built gas chambers in the concentration camps. Gas chambers! The Jews and others sent there are stripped the moment they get off the train and shoved into them to be killed in mass numbers! They are not prisons! They are killing grounds! They have killed so many there that the furnaces are working overload to burn up the bodies. The air is filled with ashes from them! Ashes of innocent people whose only crime is either their birth or simply human decency! Not just men, but women and children! Babies! Separated from their loved ones and sent to death! How can you sit there and help the Nazis while pretending none of this is happening?! Where is your humanity?”

 

“I don’t…” spluttered the Major, looking really flustered and troubled for the first time, “Nobody said… Are you su…”

 

“Oh this is surprising, isn’t it? How can a dirty lowly Jew know something the precious Major doesn’t know about.” Josué’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I am sure! I suppose you’ve not heard, why should they tell you when they can keep you as their bulldogs, blissfully in the dark, but there was a revolt in Treblinka at the beginning of this month. Some people actually made it out alive and they’re passing the information on to their fellow Jews.”

 

“And this is not some propa…”

 

“My parents died in Treblinka!” screamed Josué, his eyes filled with tears. “My beautiful, kind, gentle mother who has never raised her voice at anyone once in her lifetime! Gassed because she was a Jew. And my father, my brave, loyal, loving father, who had saved so many lives as a doctor, went with her even though he was not a Jew! Don’t you dare say that it was not real! Don’t you dare insult my family and their memories! Or I swear I will kill you with my own bare hands!”

 

“I’m sorry,” cried the Major, clearly shaken and upset, “I didn’t know! I, oh my Lord, I cannot believe… Such monstrosity! And your family. I’m so sorry. I…” He looked almost pleadingly at Josué, “Please believe me but I really didn’t know. None of us did. Maybe those higher up do but nobody told us. We thought it was just part of the war. I mean we, or at least some of us, don’t like it but we accept that sometimes innocent people die in war. But we have no idea that they are practising this kind of genocide.”

 

The smirk on Josué’s face said plain and simple that he did not buy it. “Do you really? How long have you known the racial policies of Nazi Germany? How long have you known the situations in the ghettos, where people are starved to death, where plagues are rampaging? Can you really tell yourself that your conscience is clear when all the oppressions and persecutions of one racial group have been conveniently ignored? And now you’re surprised that the Nazis are taking it one step further. Does this make you feel better about yourself? That you’re the righteous one, that you’re innocent because, oh guess what, you didn’t know!”

 

Silence filled the room as the Major’s shoulder slumped and he looked miserable. Josué’s face did not soften in one bit. “You have made your choice when you decided to help the Nazis in any shape or form. You are part of this monstrous regime whether you like it or not. Now at least be a man and live with the consequences of your choice.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Despite Pablo’s itching wish to question or perhaps punch the Major more, the activity had to be postponed until later that day because both the Major and Josué were visibly shaken from their conversation. Josué locked himself in his room and refused to come out. Pablo was extremely concerned as he could hear muffled sobs from the room but Josué could be extremely stubborn and Pablo doubted breaking into his room would really help the matter at this point. The Major, on the other hand, was pale and quiet. All his arrogance and swagger, which he had managed to retain even when bound to the bed and annoyed Pablo so much, had gone completely. His lips would tremble and his eyes would close with a pained expression on his face. When Josué’s crying was loud enough to be heard in his room, the Major would shoot a terrified look in the direction of the doctor, looking utterly stricken.

 

Josué finally emerged from his room around dinner time. Not wishing to burden his friend, Pablo rushed downstairs to get some bread and cheese. To his surprise, Josué took the food and walked, not to his own room, but to Pablo’s bedroom where the Major was kept. 

 

The moment the door was open, the Major’s whole body tensed and his eyes snapped to the door. After seeing Josué, however, he relaxed visibly and his gaze turned softer and almost apologetic. Josué’s expression was hard to read, almost purposefully neutral. Pablo could feel the Major’s eyes fixed on Josué, trying to gauge his mood. Setting the plate down on the nightstand, Josué hesitated, chewing his lower lips with uncertainty.

 

Realising the younger man’s dilemma, the Major said in a gentle voice, “It’s alright. I don’t mind,” which earned him a surprised look from Pablo. The Major paid him no heed though, as his eyes were fixed on Josué, who sighed, “Will you promise me not to do anything foolish if I release one of your arms?”

 

Now that was not a good idea, thought Pablo warily. He knew perfectly well what the Major was capable of, even with only one free arm. His concern must have shown on his face, as the Major added hastily to Josué, “It’s fine really. You don’t have to. I mean, I won’t do anything stupid but I don’t want you to…” his voice trailed off a little awkwardly. 

 

If Pablo were a more conceited man, he might have congratulated himself on having successfully intimidated the tough Major into submission. But he knew perfectly well that the Major’s cooperation was not for him. In fact, he doubted the Major even noticed his existence. All his focus was on Josué and his compliance was for Josué and Josué only. For reason beyond Pablo, the Major didn’t want to cause Josué any trouble.

 

“Your arms have been strapped above your head for more than 5 hours,” said Josué matter-of-factly, “It can’t have been comfortable. No matter what you think of us, we’re not cruel people and take no pleasure in torturing you.” He gave Pablo a pointed look, who shrugged and nodded. “I will release one of your arms so you can use it to eat the food and regain some circulation. Later I will switch arms.”

 

“Thank you,” murmured the Major when Josué bent down to release the knot. He was looking so intently at Josué that the young man looked somewhat confused. Giving the Major a plate of food, Josué dragged a chair next to the bed and sat down. 

 

Dinner, if some bread and cheese could be called that, was a silent affair. Pablo was not entirely sure why Josué wanted to eat here anyway, if not for talking. But he held his tongue and observed the interaction between the other two in silence. Josué seemed to be lost in thought, as he chewed his food slowly. The Major, on the other hand, was watching Josué with an almost hungry expression. What was the meaning of this? The Major was clearly eager to please but why? Was he play acting? Somehow Pablo could not detect any insincerity in him, though that in itself was most confusing. He displayed no compassion towards Antoine and Saúl, even though they had similar motivations. So he couldn’t have been sympathetic towards their cause. Or did he change his mind after knowing, or rather finally acknowledging, the truth about the holocaust? Could years of conviction and dedication be erased with one encounter, no matter how meaningful and eye-opening it was? Surely there must be some other driving force behind the change? What could it be? Pablo found himself replaying all their interaction since the Major’s capture over and over again in his head, the way he talked to and looked at Josué. In the end, the only plausible conclusion he could draw was that the Major, a dedicated Franconian officer, must have fallen in love with Josué. 

 

Startled with his own hypothesis, Pablo turned to the Major again. Yet the more he observed him, the more he convinced he was of his ridiculous theory. When Josué bent over the Major’s chest to release his other arm, Pablo could almost see the Major holding his breath, his eyes looking at Josué’s profile with such fierce intensity that Pablo was surprised Josué had not caught on fire. When Josué retreated back to his seat, the Major’s eyes followed his every move with equal fervour, lingering a fraction too long on his lips. This left Pablo in a bit of a pickle, for he wanted to simultaneously punch the Major into a pulp for daring to covet Josué, who was a million times better than him, and laugh with pride for Josué’s natural charm, for he knew too well how much such an attachment could benefit Josué. But he must be cautious. He had to be sure of the Major’s motives before making his next move. So he opted for observing in silence, letting Josué take the initiative.

 

“I have thought a lot about what you said to me,” Josué finally broke the silence and the Major perked up visibly, giving the younger man his undivided attention, “I realise I may have reacted too strongly without giving you a proper chance to…”

 

“Please,” the Major cut him off with an almost desperate sincerity in his voice, “you have not done anything wrong. I deserve all of your judgement, for I am a coward and a hypocrite. How can I fault you for your reaction after what has happened to your parents? I should be the one apologising and I fear I can never do enough of that.”

 

The look of genuine shock on Josué’s face was soon replaced with a faint smile. He nodded slowly, “Thank you for saying that. But I still, I want to hear your side of the story. Forgive me but I always find it hard to comprehend how humanity could be capable of such cruelty, either by instigating it or by purposefully overlooking it. How could a nation, and a previously liberal and advanced one, yes my father had been to Germany in the 20s and he had nothing but fond memories of the progressive atmosphere there, be brainwashed within such a short period of time? It truly baffles me and scares me a little bit. I’m hoping you may be able to enlighten me.”

 

Casting his look down for the first time, the Major seemed too ashamed to say anything. When he finally looked up, he was met with the genuinely puzzled and sad look on Josué’s face, which had apparently given him strength.

 

“I cannot speak for the German mentality but I understand your bewilderment. Perhaps my thought process could help, for I consider myself,” he hesitated before continuing awkwardly, “well, a somewhat decent person. I know it must sound ludicrous given what I have done but…” he trailed off and only resumed when Josué gave him an encouraging look. “I was sent to France because of Operation Nurnberg, which was formalised earlier this summer. The Spanish government was concerned about the progress of the war and feared that the Allied forces might make landings in the Iberian peninsula. It was purely a defensive operation along both sides of the Spanish-French border. They simply didn’t want the Allied forces to which were to land in Spain and then advance into France. I accepted the position because I believe I was defending my country. It soon turned out that the Allied forces had no intention of landing in Spain and advance into France from there. So the operation was called off. But other threats to Spain still remained, particularly Hitler’s desire to drag Spain into the war. I’m sure you’re aware of this but Hitler had tried very hard at this and it was only due to Prime Minister’s exceptional diplomatic skills that Spain has remained neutral until now. No matter what you may think of me and my involvement with Nazi Germany,” this was addressed more to Pablo than Josué, “my first and maybe only priority is to defend my country. I cannot let them drag my beloved Spain into war. I cannot let my fellow countrymen die in battlefields for some crazy ideologies. It is never our war to fight and I cannot let them wreck my country apart for this. Call me selfish but I simply cannot let that happen and I will do whatever it takes to prevent it.”

 

“Is that why you cooperated with the Nazis?” asked Josué in a soft voice, understanding finally dawning on him, “to help protect your country.”

 

The Major swallowed thickly and hung his head in shame. When he spoke again, there was no pride in his voice. “Yes. After Operation Nurnberg had been called off, I received direct orders from the Prime Minister to stay in France to help catch Republicans who are involved in the French Resistance. There are quite a few of them and this is the Prime Minister’s way of helping the Nazis to mollify Hitler. I was asked to obey all German orders, as long as they don’t harm Spanish core interest. When Dubois was killed, I investigated the murder to prove my dedication and accepted the order from Berlin, even though I would not have chosen that, because I cannot afford to defy them. I have to obey them, for Spain. I’m not proud of what I have done, not after what you have told me about the concentration camps,” he looked up and his eyes locked with Josué’s, wishing him to understand. “But if I have to live through the event again, I would have done the same. I’m sorry.”

 

When Josué did not say a word, Pablo found it hard to control himself. “You speak as if your choices are noble. If you really are such a decent man, why you pledge your loyalty to a bastard like Franco then? Those Republicans you’re trying to catch, they are Spanish too! Saúl was Spanish and he was worth more than ten of you!”

 

“I’m loyal to the Prime Minister because he helped my father once but more importantly because he is the only one who can keep Spain neutral at this point,” cried Major Sánchez heatedly, “I never claimed to be the Saviour of mankind nor do I want to be. My compassion only extends so much, to my country, my family, and the ones I love. If I have to sacrifice some for them, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. You can judge me all you want but that is who I am. I do not know your Saúl nor any Republicans personally. The only thing I know is that their number is much smaller than that who could die if Spain were in the war. I have to do the maths and choose the greater good. I am sorry for your Saúl and you but I chose my country over others a long time ago and I will choose it again even though it pains me and eats up my conscience. But in the end I don’t matter either, do I? Nothing comes for free and there’s always sacrifices you have to make. You just need to accept it. I did because I have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious to see what you guys think of this chapter. Hopefully I've done Villa and Silva's characters justice.


	28. Period 4 - 1943 AD

The confession of Major Sánchez gave Pablo something to think about for the next day, which frankly surprised him. He had always been so firm in his beliefs that he never thought he’d one day accept any other alternatives. Yet the Major’s motivation made sense to him, even though he did not completely agree with him. The desire to protect his own country and to spare more innocent lives from the atrocities of war was definitely something Pablo could relate to. But did this justify ignoring the sufferings of other innocent people? Pablo didn’t think so, yet he found it hard to blame the Major for the choices he had made because he might have done the same were he in the Major’s shoes. This moral paradox was driving him insane until Josué came to Antoine’s bedroom (the room Pablo currently occupied) to drag him out of his hole.

 

“David wants to speak to us. He said it was urgent.”

 

“David?” blinked Pablo in confusion. Was he losing his mind so much?

 

“Major Sánchez,” said Josué with a faint blush on his face, “His name is David.”

 

“You’re on first name basis now, aren’t you?”

 

“Oh shut it,” snapped Josué, more embarrassed than annoyed, “I’ve been talking to him while you have been cooped up in your little world.” When Pablo simple raised his eyebrows to show his scepticism, Josué sighed, “I understand how you feel. Trust me I do. I’m just as conflicted as you are. On one hand, I don’t and doubt I ever will subscribe to his utilitarianism, I have to admit his reasoning is sound and his motivation is understandable. Despite what he has done, I can see why he still thinks he is a decent man and I have to agree with him. At the very least, I don’t think him a monster who derive pleasure from others’ sufferings.”

 

“You’re quick to forgive! Is it because he’s in love with you?” Pablo blurted it out before he could control himself. He regretted instantly at the hurt look on Josué’s face. He really needed to cut down his wine consumption. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…”

 

“I did not forgive him,” replied Josué coolly, “Nor will I forget what he has done. Antoine and Saúl were my friends too and Antoine had saved my life by sheltering me here.” He sighed and massaged his temple in an exhausted manner that flooded Pablo with guilt. Josué had been the one trying to keep things under control while he was lost in his thought and it had taken a toll on him. “I am simply trying to understand his perspective without any bias. We have to make the most out of the current situation we’re in, which mind you, has not been the best. If he did, well…” The tips of Josué’s ears turned pink and Pablo almost wanted to laugh at the unusual embarrassment of his younger friend. “Actually I wouldn't call it love but I suppose he does find me somewhat attractive.”

 

“Maybe he will prove his love for you,” smiled Pablo in spite of himself, “I never thought such things possible for this Major but then again, you’re quite a special someone, aren’t you Josué? You know I don’t like nor trust him but I do have to commend him for his taste.”

 

“Come off it,” Josué rolled his eyes in an exasperated manner, “let’s go talk to him first.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first thing Pablo noticed when he was in his old bedroom was that the Major had regained freedom of his limbs, no doubt thanks to Josué. He was pacing in the room like a caged animal and Pablo felt his whole body tense up. Slowing his paces to observe the Major’s movements, Pablo tried to access his danger level. To his relief and slight annoyance, the Major paid him no attention whatsoever, as he smiled at Josué and sat down docilely in his chair.

 

“Now that we have everyone here,” Josué spoke oblivious to the tension in the room, “please tell us this urgent business.”

 

“Ah right,” the Major broke his gaze from Josué and finally acknowledged Pablo’s presence. Taking a deep breath, he said quickly, “You have to let me go.”

 

Standing up from his chair, Pablo was beyond furious! What insolence! Did the Major seriously think he could threaten them or was he stupid enough to believe that his little confession was enough to prove his innocence? “Upon my arse, you will! You’re in no position to…”

 

“I’m not making demands,” cried the Major desperately, turning to Josué with pleading eyes, “And please don’t think I feel entitled to anything. Believe me, I am aware of the blood on my hand and if I have my own way, I’ll willingly remain a prisoner here forever. I’m only saying this because I fear for your safety!”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Josué sharply.

 

“Look,” sighed the Major, “I had to tell my subordinates where I was heading before I left. I couldn’t just take off and keep them in the dark. I didn’t wish to tell them the true nature of my visit because I still had some lingering doubts of Señor Jorge’s innocence and the last thing I want is to besmirch the name of his father. So I told my officers that I was going to patrol the area to see if I could find the accomplice of the two young men.”

 

“This is good then, isn’t it?” said Josué with a confused expression, “Nobody suspects Jorge’s involvement so what is the problem.”

 

Pablo, on the other hand, understood the nature of the problem immediately. With a sigh, he said, “But you have to go back before they get suspicious and come looking for you.”

 

“Exactly!” nodded Major Sánchez and he seemed sincerely apologetic. “If I don’t return, my officers will suspect that something has happened to me and they will tear down every house in the greater Vichy area to try to find me. They will come here and they will search the area so thoroughly that no secrets can remain hidden. It will be potentially devastating, not just for you, but for…”

 

“For any decent men sheltering their Jewish friends,” Josué finished his sentence in a hollow voice, “Oh God, what are we to do?”

 

To be honest, Pablo was at a loss. If they did not release the Major, they would be putting the entire area in danger. But to let the Major go would not only sign their own death warrant but also let the Major back to a position of power. Not only would justice not be served, but the Major could also retaliate with a crackdown of the area later anyway. But what if the Major’s feeling for Josué was sincere and he did feel remorse for his behaviour? He could have kept his silence and even assist the Resistance by turning a blind eye whenever he could. Could they really put their faith in a Franconian officer who had aided the Nazis in carrying out their barbarous agenda? If the Major hadn’t met Josué, Pablo would not hesitate to kill him but now he was torn between his fear and his wish to trust. Quite frankly, he was not certain he was in the right emotional and mental state to make such a critical decision.

 

Before Pablo could make up his mind though, Josué turned to him with a polite request, “Do you mind if I speak to David, in private?” which left Pablo with unease. Grabbing Josué by his elbow, he led the younger man out of the room.

 

“Are you sure about this Josué?” It wasn’t that Pablo did not trust Josué’s judgement, for the younger man was extremely collected and level-headed. Yet he knew more than anyone else how much one’s heart could cloud one’s judgement and despite what Josué might have claimed, Pablo knew that his younger friend’s heart was not completely untouched by the Major’s affection.

 

“I am sure,” said Josué with a defiance that made him look so much younger that it almost brought a smile to Pablo’s face. “I know what you think but I assure my friend, my mind is clear and I can think rationally. I’m only asking for a private audience because I feel he may be more comfortable telling me his true intention without your presence. He does seem quite flustered around you, you know? Not that I can blame him for that.”

 

“Hmph,” snorted Pablo, “maybe he should have reconsidered executing the love my life.”

 

“Please Pablo,” implored Josué, “This is precisely why I need to speak to David in private. You’re too emotionally invested to not hate him. Not that I’m blaming you,” he added quickly, “I am truly sorry but we little time. We cannot undo the past and we have to move on.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After waiting anxiously for a full hour in Antoine’s bedroom, Pablo was beyond relieved when he saw Josué. Searching his face for any sign of a resolution, Pablo was almost disappointed with Josué’s usual serene countenance. “Are you going to tell me what has happened or do you take pleasure in keeping me in suspense?”

 

Chuckling slightly, Josué finally graced him with an answer. “I have talked to David and we have come up with a plan.” He took a deep breath and looked Pablo straight in the eye, “We’re going to let him go. He will go back to his office in Vichy and tell his subordinates that his search has yielded no results. This will stop them from searching the area again and you will be safe here, by yourself.”

 

“What do you mean by myself?” asked Pablo in alarm. Surely Josué could not mean…

 

“I’m going with him,” said Josué with determination in his voice, “He has a friend in Vichy who can provide me with shelter for a couple of days before he can produce fake documentation to get me past the border to Spain.”

 

The statement was met with shocked silence. Honestly, what else could Josué expect though? To trust his fate in the hand of someone like Major Sánchez was nothing short of suicidal. Pablo opened his mouth and closed it again when nothing came out. Had Josué completely lost his mind? 

 

“Oh for heaven’s sake Pablo, say something,” cried Josué when the prolonged silence finally got on his nerves.

 

“Well, where do I even begin?” sighed Pablo, “It is one thing to let him go and then leave this place as quickly as we can, quite another to go with him and trust him with your life. How can you be sure he will go through with his promise if said promise is even sincere to start with?”

 

“He meant what he said. He told me that he was done with all this. He said that he couldn’t possibly go back to assisting Nazis after knowing what they had done in the concentration camps and he wanted nothing to do with it. He will follow me soon once he has finished his business here.”

 

“Are you sure…”

 

“Yes I am sure,” cried Josué, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright, “He meant every word. Please, Pablo, trust my judgement on this! You are more than welcome to leave the farmhouse once we’re out of your way if you’re really this suspicious.”

 

“It’s not my safety I’m worried about!” exclaimed Pablo in exasperation, “I have lost everyone I have ever loved except you! I have lost Antoine for Christ sake! Why do I care if I die tomorrow? It just means I can finally meet my Antoine again. It is your life I’m worried about!”

 

“And I have to live it myself!” Josué rose up from his seat and the look on his face was so fierce that Pablo had to back off, “I cannot let you protect any longer Pablo! I am not a 15-year-old who cannot decide what is best for him! I am old enough and I have seen enough to know what this world is capable. Yet I still trust David because when he looked me straight in the eye, I could see nothing but remorse, sadness, sincerity, and determination, the determination to redeem himself. I know this may sound self-centred but I now believe he is indeed in love with me. I don’t know how and I don’t why and I have no time to find out. But I believe him. He’s not lying to me.”

 

“What if you’re wrong?” asked Pablo in a low voice, “What if your feelings have blinded you?” 

 

Josué blinked and said nothing. Pablo’s eyes followed him as he walked to the window, looking out into the forest. “I’m not in love with him you know. Not now anyway. There’s too much between us, his past, Saúl, Antoine, my parents, that I don’t know if I can ever forgive him enough to love him. But I still believe him and I don’t think I can take it if I’m wrong. I don’t know if I can still keep faith in human nature if he has manipulated me so convincingly just to get out. I don’t know if I still want to remain in this world so full of hatred and bigotry. I have seen too much Pablo, too much cruelty to last me a lifetime. I want to believe the goodness of a heart when I am presented with one. I want to believe that we are still capable of kindness when the situation is right. Because if not, what is the point of living?”

 

A tear trickled down Pablo’s face as he finally understood Josué. To some extent, he wanted the same thing as Josué, to have hope in not just their fate, but also in the chaotic world they found themselves in. It was just that Josué had been lucky to find such hope, false or not. He could not deny his friend his greatest chance at if not happiness then at least redemption, the redemption of faith and hope. Walking slowly towards his friend, Pablo only stopped to embrace Josué. “Then go on and live your life! I only wish you to be happy. If anyone of us is capable of real happiness, it will be you with someone who loves you, despite everything.”

 

“Thank you, my dear friend! Take care of yourself. If I don’t know if I’ll see you again in this lifetime. If not, I’m sure our paths will cross again, someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for Story 4 and we're more than half way through! Hooray! Spoiler: Nobody will die in the next story (it's not a HE though).


	29. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another story. Finally we've reached our time! This is from Koke's POV. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to go back and re-watch some of the Atletico matches to refresh my memory lol. Most of the events should be accurate until this season anyway. This was actually the reason why I want to get this story out now lo.

Being a footballer was never as easy as one might think. Koke for one, never really thought that he would one day achieve what he had today. Of course, he had always dreamt about it but then again, who hadn’t. Yet it was extremely difficult to break it into the big leagues and even harder to stay in them. Unlike some of his peers, Koke was not borne a natural footballer. Practically everyone in his family was, well there was no other words for it really, quite chubby. This unfortunate genetic heritage meant that he had to work a hundred times harder than his peers to maintain his weight to stay competitive. If there was one thing that he dreaded in training, it was the daily weight taking. Any weight gain, in addition to being the potential source of joking and jesting in the changing room, also meant extra scrutiny under the eyes of the manager, which Koke really wanted to avoid. The thing was, Diego El Cholo Simeone was one of the legends of the club and being a Colchonero since his childhood, Cholo was one of the people he hated to disappoint. One other thing he never quite liked about himself was that he wished he can be taller. He still remembered vividly how difficult training was at the beginning of his Atlético career because of his smaller size. Then again, those could not be changed and Koke had to admit, he was luckier than most. He had worked extremely hard of course. Being from Vallecas, the rougher part of Madrid, he never lacked motivation, for his options of changing not only his life but also that of his family were pretty limited. But he had got a great support system. His family had done everything they could for his career and Bea had been nothing but wonderful. Every day when he woke up, Koke felt the need to thank God for giving him such an amazing girlfriend.

 

Yet occasionally he still found himself wanting, for what he could not say. His relationship with Bea was everything he had ever dreamt of since he was a little boy with the first crush on the teenage girl next door with beautiful brown eyes and long thick hair. Sometimes he did not really understand what Bea had seen in him when they first met. He was just an 18-year-old footballer in the youth team with an unpredictable future, while she was ready to graduate from university with two degrees under her belt. She was smart, funny, very athletic and very badass (those years of Taekwondo training were not just for show), spoke perfect English, not to mention extremely beautiful. More importantly, she understood him. Her previous competitive experience in Taekwondo meant that she knew exactly what it felt like to stay focused, to work on a goal, to desire to win, and to hate losing. No one could honestly ask for a better girlfriend. Yet still, Koke felt strangely incomplete. It was like part of him was missing, a part that should be with him since the beginning of time, a part that was calling him. The only problem was, he has no idea what that part was. He had tried searching for it, travelling around the world with Bea looking for it but to no avail. So he finally shrugged it off as one of his own eccentricities and gave it no further thought.

 

When he walked into Ciudad Deportiva in Majadahonda for the first day of pre-season training of 2014, Koke was still a bit exhausted from the hectic summer. The time spent in Brazil meant that no long trip abroad was realistic so he opted for some relaxing time on the beach with Bea in Ibiza and Formentera. But it all ended too quickly and before he realised it, he was back in Madrid by himself, getting ready for the new season. In addition to his physical fatigue, Koke also dreaded the start of the new season because of the changes on the team. He never liked changes to start with while the world of football was, unfortunately, a world full of uncertainty and surprises. He for one knew that he would miss Thibaut and surprisingly Guaje terribly. His friendship with Thibaut had been understandable since they were of similar age and started playing regularly for the first team at about the same time. Koke had never, however, expected him to form a close friendship with the much older Guaje, who was viewed by many as moody at best and cantankerous at worst, during his one-year tenure in Atlético. Perhaps Guaje found his quiet and reserved demeanour comforting while Koke had always appreciated the veteran’s career advice.

 

The most momentous moment of their friendship, however, came quite by accident. It happened when they were in London getting ready for the match against Chelsea. Guaje was assigned to share a room with Koke, which pleased the youngster. For one, Guaje didn’t snore and wasn’t a light sleeper. For another, Koke always found Guaje’s stoic and though sometimes slightly moody temperament strangely calming before a big game. 

 

The moment their plane landed in Heathrow, several mobiles chimed with the same text ringtone simultaneously. Turned out, Fernando had taken it upon himself to welcome them to London. 

 

“Are we allowed to fraternise with the enemy before the match?” Guaje wondered out loud.

 

Chuckling slightly, Cholo shook his head, “Normally no but this is Nando we’re talking about. I suppose we can make an exception.”

 

So they did meet up with Fernando for dinner, which was an extremely pleasant event. Still slightly starstruck with Fernando, Koke might have acted a little too eager but who could blame him. What he didn’t understand was why Guaje was anxious and fidgety the whole time. Text messages kept flooding in and he kept lowering his head to answer them, to the point where he had to excuse himself to go back to their hotel early.

 

“What was that all about?” asked Koke incredulously once Guaje was out of earshot. Cholo shrugged but Fernando smiled meaningfully before saying, “Oh don’t mind him. He’s a bit distracted here I suppose.”

 

Now thinking back, Koke realised that he probably should have pressed Fernando a bit more to get the truth out of him. But then again, it was never his nature to pry. As a result, he was utterly shocked when he walked into his room only to find himself staring into a dishevelled Guaje pressed into the wall by none other than David Silva.

 

“Erm,” Koke’s brain had frozen on him and all he could do was opening his mouth, closing it, and opening it again stupidly like a dying fish. His embarrassment was only salvaged by the look of utter shock and humiliation on both Davids’ faces. Actually, now that Koke had more time to react, he realised that he might have interpreted the situation slightly differently. It was true that David Silva had shoved Guaje into the wall but it didn’t seem like they were engaged in some passionate make-out session. Rather Silva was grabbing the front of Villa’s shirt with both hands in a somewhat aggressive fashion. Either they had an SM kink Koke was not aware of (and David fucking Villa is a sub!), or Silva was actually pissed at Guaje and ready to punch him. Knowing Guaje, Koke felt with a heavy heart that the latter might be a more likely scenario. What on earth could Guaje have done to push the amiable mild-mannered Silva into such aggression though? Did Guaje offend Silva somehow by, well, being Guaje? Did Guaje play a prank on Silva in the last La Selección gathering? Had Guaje maybe stolen Silva’s first-born child?

 

“It’s not what you think!” Guaje’s annoyed grunt interrupted Koke’s imagination that was growing wilder by the second. Silva shot him a wary look before releasing his crumpled shirt. Now that the aggression had left him, he was back to his usual shy self and looked quite out of sorts in the current situation. Nodding awkwardly to Koke, he excused himself from the room after throwing Guaje one last meaningful look. Guaje sighed and beckoned Koke forward.

 

“Look, I know what you must be thinking but this is complicated,” Guaje scratched his head as he plunked down almost helplessly on his bed and Koke felt a surge of sympathy towards his older friend. He sat down gingerly next to Guaje and put a tentative hand on his tense shoulder. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me if you want. I swear I won’t say a word to anyone else.”

 

Guaje looked up and shot him an appraising look. Koke held his gaze, puffing his chest up subconsciously. His sincerity seemed to get through to Guaje, as the veteran finally spoke up, “Silva and I had a, well, history. I ended it a while ago but I didn’t really, well, do it properly. I suppose I was a selfish coward and just cut it off without giving him a proper closure. So that’s what he was here for.” Guaje shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but failing miserably, “he was in London playing Crystal Palace a couple days ago and he just stayed behind to, er, ambush me.”

 

Painstakingly, Guaje told Koke everything about his relationship with Silva, how they met when they were both young, how they clicked first on the fitch then soon off the pitch too, how they finally confessed their love for each other after a year-long mutual pining, how they had been sneaking off to see each other hoping to keep it a secret, how they maintained a long-distance relationship between Spain and England, how Villa finally ended it with Silva, breaking the younger man’s heart.

 

“Why did you end it?” asked Koke, though he suspected that he knew the answer already.

 

For the first time since Koke had known him, Guaje looked much older. The lines in his face were more pronounced than ever and his shoulder slumped with the weight of life. Closing his eyes, he struggled to find the right words, “It wasn’t easy. It never has been. I have tried several times before but could never bring myself to do it. I simply love him too much. In the end, I suppose the distance helped. I would never have had the courage and heart to do it to his face if we were still in Valencia together. So I took the coward's way out. I phoned him and told him my decision.”

 

“But why?”

 

“Why?” Guaje burst out in an anguished tone, “Because I have no choice! Because it would have ruined both of our careers! If anyone finds out, our careers will be over. Can you imagine the insults we’ll get from the opposing team fans? Even our own fans will shun us, for they think gays have no business in a manly sport like football. It would have killed Silva. And then our families. Oh, my baby girls.” Guaje choked and buried his face in his hands, clutching his hair with utter desperation. “I can never give them up. I cannot do this to Patricia. If it’s just my reputation at stake, I might risk it. But how can I bring this to my little angels and to Patricia? Because no matter what you might think, I do love her. I have loved her since we were teenagers and I still love her. All of this will break her completely and I cannot do that to her. I have no choice.”

 

So Koke finally understood and he tried his best to help his friend. When he was called for the World Cup, he was beside himself with joy. He knew he probably wouldn’t get much chance to play so he set himself another more realistic goal: protect Guaje from awkward situations and keep Guaje happy. Hence if he acted too much like a puppy following Guaje everywhere in Brazil, nobody could really blame him. But now Guaje was gone, thousands of miles and several time zones away in New York City and Koke knew he was never going to be smart enough to figure out the proper time to phone (without waking Guaje up at 4 am in the morning and got a paid hit on him a day later that was).

 

It was not to say that Koke did not have friends in the current squad. Gabe was like an older brother to him and Juan had the best and most adorable son in the world. But still, the newcomers piqued Koke’s interest a little bit more. He knew that they were going to have some world-class players like Mario Mandžukić and Antoine Griezmann joining them. Okay, maybe Griezmann was not world-class yet but hardly anyone could doubt his potential. Then there were some familiar young faces returning from their season-long loan somewhere, one of them being Saúl.

 

Koke had never been certain about Saúl. It was true that they both spent a long time in Atlético and Spain’s various youth teams, but their 2-year age gap had always put them in different divisions, making them mere acquaintances, nothing more. Yet people seemed to expect them to be close friends and Cholo had already talked to him about making Saúl feel at home. Not that Koke minded such a task. It was just he was not sure if first Saúl needed it, second if he was the right person to do it, for their personalities were quite different. While Koke was quiet, reserved, and a bit shy, Saúl was outspoken, confident, and almost fierce, though never in that youthful arrogant way. Even their pet choices were the complete opposite: Saúl was obsessed with dogs (according to Oliver anyway) while Koke doted on Romeo. Still, Koke was determined to be a good teammate and a better role model, though he doubted Saúl would ever see him as one. So he was resolved to befriend as many new players as possible, regardless of personalities and pet preferences. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the personal details about Koke and Bea came from either the internet or this video on Koke by Adidas before 2014 World Cup (All in or nothing).


	30. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

A month into the pre-season training, it soon transpired that Antoine was the new team favourite. Sweet and cheerful, he was a delightful bundle of energy with a dazzling smile that melted the heart of even the most obstinate. His young age also gave him an unfair advantage, for he could get away with almost anything when he used his puppy dog eyes. Well, almost. The only one not budging was Cholo.

 

Nobody in their right mind would ever call Cholo easy. Their training sessions were known to be hard and gruelling. The only thing that Cholo sought was perfection and he would stop at nothing to get it, even though it meant the potential premature death of his players from exhaustion. Koke was used to this kind of training. Antoine, on the other hand, was not. This, combined with Cholo’s seeming determination to enact an even higher standard for Antoine, meant that the young Frenchman’s life was quite difficult at the moment.

 

“I can’t feel my legs,” whined Antoine as he lay on the grass with his limbs spread out, “Somebody help!”

 

Most of their teammates were used to Antoine’s antics and they merely walked past him sniggering while a couple kinder ones like Diego Godin and Juanfran would stop to pat him encouragingly on the head. Koke did not think twice as he walked past the Frenchman until he was stopped by Cholo.

 

“Go check on Griezmann, will you?” The boss said simply, his eyebrows creased, “I think he might be in real pain and needs a hand.”

 

Slightly surprised by this side of Cholo, Koke went obediently to Antoine, “You okay, mate?”

 

Antoine raised his eyes to Koke and made a face, “My right leg feels weird. Could you help me up?”

 

After some manoeuvring, Koke had finally managed to get Antoine up using himself as support. The Frenchman put his arm around Koke and walked gingerly, trying not to put any weight on his right leg. “All the other tossers left without so much as a backward glance at me,” complained Antoine good-naturedly, “What made you stop to check?”

 

Koke shrugged, “It was Cholo. He seems to know that you’re in pain and in need of some help. He told me to go and check on you.”

 

“Hmm,” mused Antoine, “He’s rather perceptive, isn’t he? I mean he looks scary and demanding but underneath all that he’s pretty soft, isn’t he? Always looking out for us.”

 

Koke almost shuddered at the word soft. This was a word one should never associate with Cholo, no matter the circumstance. But he supposed Antoine had a point. Cholo did care about them, a great deal actually. And the manager could be very attentive and surprisingly considerate if he wanted to. It seemed like he really wanted to when it came to Antoine Griezmann.

 

During the final week of the pre-season training, Gabi, forever the good captain, invited everyone to his house for a nice new season welcoming party. Koke would love to bring Bea, except she was away on holiday. He sometimes really envied her ability to travel to all those exotic places.

 

The party was a success. The language barrier was a bit of a problem at the beginning, as some of their new teammates’ Spanish was still tentative at best. But after several glasses of wine and beer, such problems seemed trivial. Koke stumbled upon Jan talking animatedly with Miguel in English while the older Spaniard nodded sagely even though Koke knew for a fact that Miguel’s English extended only to some choice curse words. Arda was singing a Turkish song with Mario, who joined in every now and then in loud Croatian.

 

“The new ones are blending in quite well, aren’t they?” Gabi sneaked up on him, which made him jump, “I think we’ll have a great team this year.”

 

“You’re sounding more and more like Cholo,” teased Koke, “This is not a good sign. You’re too young for that.”

 

Gabi gave him a half amused half reproachful look, “I’m just doing my job as a captain. You’ll be a Captain one day and you’ll understand the responsibilities then.”

 

Koke sighed. He knew that Gabi meant well and the reality he spelt out was most likely coming true sooner than he expected. He, therefore, looked around, trying to make sure all his new teammates were having a good time.

 

It didn’t take him too long to realise that Saúl was nowhere to be found. Not wishing to alarm his teammates, particularly Gabi who would fuss worse than an old hen, Koke sneaked out of the living room to look for the missing Spaniard. He eventually managed to locate the youngster in the garden, standing next to Gabi’s gorgeous rosebush by himself with his back turned. Walking slowly and cautiously, Koke approached his teammate.

 

“Hmm,” he cleared his throat and Saúl spun around as if burnt. Koke realised immediately that first, the young Spaniard had red eyes, and second, he was clutching his phone so hard that he might break it. Cursing inwardly, Koke had no choice but to stay in this awkward situation, “Er, are you alright?”

 

The look Saúl gave him was so unimpressed that Koke almost wanted to snap back. It wasn’t exactly his fault to walk in at the wrong time and he was only trying to help. Knowing that Gabi would be less than impressed if Koke really chose to voice his opinion so tactlessly, he asked instead, “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

 

Saúl sighed, “It’s nothing. I mean it’s a shitty situation but there’s nothing you can do. I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I just didn’t want to ruin everyone’s mood. We’re supposed to enjoy the party. Bond over good food and alcohol and whatever.”

 

Whatever Saúl said, Koke knew that it wasn’t nothing, for the usually strong youngster was clearly trying to fight back tears. He wondered what the piece of bad news might be. If it had been something about his family or friends, surely Saúl would have told him. He might as well be on his way to help. But the fact that Saúl was doing nothing about it and unwilling to divulge made him wonder if it was a matter of the heart. Perhaps his girlfriend had chosen this moment to break up with him. Did Saúl even have a girlfriend? He wasn’t aware of the youngster being involved with anyone. Still, the downtrodden look on Saúl’s face made him want to help him.

 

“Look, if you don’t want to stay here, you don’t have to. I’ll cover for you.”  


Saúl looked up again, half hesitant half hopeful, “Will you? I mean, I don’t want Gabi to get worried or anything. You know what he’s like.”

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something. He won’t suspect a thing.”

 

The grey eyes locked with his and Koke could tell the youngster’s gratitude was sincere, “Thank you so much, Jorge. I owe you.”

 

“Cheers, mate,” smiled Koke as he watched the youngster leave through the garden gate.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The start of the season brought much excitement and distraction that Koke forgot momentarily about Saúl’s problem. It wasn’t until someone in the changing room started asking Antoine about his relationship troubles that Koke remembered. Feeling rather ashamed of himself, Koke was resolved to keep an eye on his friend should he need any help. Saúl, however, did not seem to linger on his heartache, not outwardly at least. He trained harder than ever and laughed at all the jokes, even participating in some pranks. Whenever Koke invited him over for some after-training FIFA, he always accepted happily and they generally spent the afternoons with some good FIFA games and an occasional film.

 

Spending time with Saúl was easy. Despite his young age, Saúl was surprisingly mature with a clear sense of purpose in his life and career, which Koke shared. They talked about their training and matches, how to improve their techniques, and Koke found himself more than happy to give the youngster his own advice on how to make the big breakthrough in one’s career. Besides football, they talked about everything else too. Surprising Koke again, Saúl showed his broad knowledge and interest in films, politics, technology, along with many other fields.

 

“I like to be informed and involved if possible,” Saúl shrugged when Koke one day marvelled at his broad interest, “A conversation about food, sex, and car can only be so interesting. There’s so much out there and I’d like to explore.”

 

Choking slightly at the mention of sex, Koke wondered if this meant that Saúl was over his relationship problem now that he was talking about it in casual conversation. Sensing his musing, Saúl turned to look at him, his eyes serious.

 

“I’m okay now Jorge. Really. The breakup was unpleasant but I suppose I wasn’t really surprised,” he sighed, “When you’re in a long distance relationship, you have to be prepared for this kind of possibilities.”

 

“So she’s not in Spain?” asked Koke carefully.

 

“He,” Saúl’s eyes did not move away from Koke’s and the look in his eyes were so intense that Koke could not move away, “moved to England a couple months ago. So yeah, we’re not in the same country.”

 

Swallowing hard, Koke knew his friendship with Saúl hung on his next sentence. Sitting up straighter, he turned to face Saúl properly and said, “It’s his loss then. You’re a great young lad and anyone would be lucky to have you. You’ll always have my support.”

 

Before he knew it, Koke found himself with an armful of Saúl, who hugged him so hard that Koke feared he might suffocate. A whispered “thank you” was not lost on him, however, and he simply hugged his friend back.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The beginning of the season was not going as well as they would have liked. It was true that they managed some important victories like the away win against Real and the home win against Juventus. But they had also lost some points that they shouldn’t have. The main problem for Cholo, however, was how to incorporate the new players into the team to make up for the losses like Diego Costa and Thibaut Courtois.

 

So far, Mario had been the best performing big signing. Scoring goals and contributing greatly to the team defence, he blended in almost effortlessly. Antoine, on the other hand, was struggling. He had a hard time with Atlético’s style and he had only scored one goal in the first two months. Soon he even found himself spending more time on the touchline than on the pitch and Koke could tell the Frenchman was getting restless. His usual dazzling smile grew more and more scarce and he no longer bounced around like an over-energetic puppy. Even scoring his first goal in the Champions League game against Olympiacos did nothing to cheer him up because they lost that game, not to Real not to Barca, not to Juventus, but to bloody Olympiacos.

 

“Do you think I’m useless?” Antoine asked in a would-be casual tone after one particularly hard training. Cholo had yelled at them so much that Koke felt his ear was still ringing. Surprisingly, Cholo had been less than vocal towards Antoine now, though he still trained the striker harder than anyone else.

 

“Don’t be absurd, mate,” Koke patted Antoine on the shoulder, “Of course you’re not useless. You’ve clearly got it in you.”

 

“Well whatever I’ve got in me is clearly not coming out though, is it?” replied Antoine in frustration, “So what good does it do really? I mean I’m not scoring goals, I’m not creating chances, and I’m not contributing much to the defence. I’m basically doing nothing. And I cost a lot of money.”

 

“At least you look nice on the field,” quipped Saúl, who had just sauntered from behind, and received a much expected glared from Antoine, “Seriously though, you’ve just joined the team. You’ve never worked with us before and our style is very particular. It takes time.”

 

“Mario is new too. Yet he’s doing much better than I am,” pouted Antoine.

 

“So what if he is,” shrugged Saúl, “He’s a lot older and more experienced. He’s played in various teams, including Bayern Munich. Of course, he knows how to adapt. You’ve only played with Real Sociedad and have been their star player. Everyone was working around you. It’s different here and it takes getting used to. You’ll get there though.”

 

Chewing his bottom lips, Antoine stayed silent. Koke could not help but ask, “Is Cholo giving you a hard time? I know he can be really demanding sometimes but…”

 

Antoine shook his head, “The manager has been great. I mean yeah he works me like a real slavedriver but at least he still has confidence in me. I’m giving myself a hard time.”

 

Before Koke could say anything more, Cholo’s voice interrupted them, “Griezmann, my office please, now.”

 

“Is Antoine going to be alright?” asked Koke anxiously as he watched Antoine jogging slowly to Cholo’s office.

 

“Don’t worry about him,” Saúl nudged his shoulder placatingly, “Cholo knows how shitty Antoine feels right now and how fragile his self-confidence is. He’s not going to crush it even further. Unless I’m very much mistaken, he’s currently doing what we’ve been trying but have failed miserably to do, reassuring Antoine that he’s got a place in the team and will make his breakthrough soon enough.”

 

“When did you get to be so wise?” Koke gave Saúl a suspicious look and the latter laughed, “Shut it, you prick. I’m always wise.”


	31. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

Frankly, nobody was stressing out too much over the home game against Malmo. Having defeated Juventus at Vicente Calderon, their chances at making it out of the group was looking much better. The fact that this game was in Madrid not freezing Sweden added to their advantage. The match pretty much progressed as expected. They scored 5 goals and kept a clean sheet for Miguel. The best part of the match, however, happened at 62:16.

 

Getting a pass from Mario Suárez, Koke passed the ball without a second touch directly to Antoine, who adjusted, aimed, and fired. The ball went straight to the goal with such force that even though the goalie touched it, it bounced off and went into the goal.

 

The stadium exploded. Koke punched his hand in the air in excitement before turning to find Antoine to celebrate. The Frenchman, however, had only other ideas in mind. 

 

Cholo was clapping his hands and waving them in celebration on the touchline with such enthusiasm that he was beaming brightly when Antoine ran straight towards him to jump into his arms. The laugh was contagious and the team soon gathered around Antoine to congratulate him.

 

On the way back, Koke found himself seated next to Saúl, who was grinned back at him. “It’s such a wonderful day, especially for Grizi, isn’t it?”

 

Koke sighed happily, “I know. He’s been waiting for this. Hopefully, this is the start of many more goals to come from him.”

 

“Cholo’s really pleased too, isn’t he?” Saúl commented almost casually, “I don’t think I’ve seen him so happy for anyone else before, have you? He even slapped Antoine’s arse,” the smirk on Saúl’s face was obvious and Koke stared, “must be quite a sight, huh?”

 

Although Koke hated to admit it, he had to concede that Saúl did seem to have a sharp eye for things. Once his younger friend pointed it out, Koke started to pay closer attention to Antoine and Cholo and began to notice more signs. A playful pat on the back, a high-five after a good goal or pass, a hug after training, and the never fading smile when they were together. Koke sometimes wondered if he was reading too much into the situation. Surely they were just mentor and protégé. 

 

Whatever the relationship between Antoine and Cholo was, it was working because Antoine was truly starting to shine. He began to score more and more goals and the team started to look for him whenever they wanted to pass the ball forward into the box. His first brace came in their win over Córdoba and he netted his first hat-trick to help them win against Athletic Bilbao. They were winning more games too. They lost some but they finished first in their group in the Champions League and got Bayer Leverkusen. 

 

The only problem was that Saúl was still not playing many minutes. He was used mostly as a substitute and sometimes only came on after 80 minutes of the game. He could not even make it to the squad sometimes. Even though Saúl had done a much better job at hiding his emotions, training hard as ever and joking with everyone while waiting patiently, Koke thought he could still feel the youngster’s frustration seeping through every now and then, usually when they were alone in his house, playing FIFA together. Given that he was no expert in psychology, Koke helped his friend with the only way he could, by being present. This led to many movie nights and the occasional sleepovers, especially when Bea was away. Not that Koke minded. Despite his rather reserved nature, Koke hated solitude and was thus grateful for the company.

 

The other change to the club came in January in the form of Fernando Torres. Koke was beyond excited since he heard the news in December and woke up early to go greet his childhood idol. When he arrived, he realised that he was not alone in this sentiment, as Antoine and Saúl, along with many others, were there already.

 

“Can you believe it?” Antoine did not even bother with greetings, “Fernando Torres! El Niño. He’s my idol since I was a kid. I have his poster on the wall of my bedroom and…”

 

“And wank to it?” smirked Saúl before he dodged a well-aimed punch from Antoine. “Honestly, stop drooling over him. You’re going to work with him. It’s not going to look very good if you try to jump him every time he’s training with us.” At that, Antoine threw his bag to the ground and started chasing Saúl in the room. Shaking his head in amusement, Koke left that pair of children to their own devices.

 

Thankfully, Saúl’s prediction did not come true. Even though Antoine had come to training with stars in his eyes whenever Nando was in sight and followed him around like a lost puppy, he at least refrained from making any physical advances on the club legend. Koke never knew Antoine had such self-control.

 

“It’s either that or his fear that he’s not gonna get any from Cholo if he does it,” commented Saúl matter-of-factly and Koke nearly choked on his water. He wondered if the young Spaniard was just joking or telling the truth. The mental image of Cholo and Antoine going at it made Koke shiver and he shook himself to erase the memory permanently from his mind. He did, however, pay more attention to Cholo’s reaction to Antoine’s obvious admiration of Nando but the manager did not seem to mind. This made Koke wonder maybe there was nothing between them after all, for surely Cholo would have been jealous if Antoine was his boyfriend (another shudder) yet bestowed so much attention on someone else.

 

Their second Madrid derby came in early February. There was nothing like the Madrid derby that could fire up their blood and light up their passion, especially when played in Vicente Calderon. The team arrived early and Koke felt all amped up. Saúl wished him good luck in the changing room before walking to the bench. Then they were on, except it all ended too quickly for Koke. 

 

Only 7 minutes and a half into the game, Koke felt something off with his hamstring when he was running into the box. His heart sank. Nobody had even touched him yet he knew it was not something he could simply walk off. Trying to walk, he was soon reduced to sitting on the grass. Iker rushed to his side to check on him but he knew the match was over for him. Sitting on the pitch, his eyes wandered to the bench and saw Saúl getting ready. Well, he thought bitterly, at least this gave Saúl more chance to play. He just hoped that his friend was ready and warm enough.

 

As he walked off the pitch towards Saúl, he could see the look on the youngster’s face, concern, excitement, eagerness. He tried to smile, to comfort his friend that he was alright. But all he had managed was probably just a grimace. Still, as he sat on the bench watching the game, he hoped with all his heart that Saúl would grab this chance and shine to impress Cholo.

 

Oh and did he grab it with both hands and shine like the brightest star. Granted, their first goal was lucky. (Koke almost felt bad for Iker for he knew how devastating such a mistake could be for a goalkeeper and Iker was a friend.) Saúl’s second goal, however, was a wonder goal. When Guilherme passed the ball to Saúl, the Spaniard rose into the air and scored an overhead bicycle kick straight into the goal. Iker had no time to react at all.

 

The stadium exploded. Koke did not even realise he was standing until Raúl came to engulf him in a bear hug. Koke’s eyes, however, were fixed on Saúl, as the youngster ran around ecstatically, pointing towards the bench, towards maybe, him? Was his friend dedicating this goal to him? Touched by this gesture, Koke beamed at Saúl even though he knew there was no way his friend could see him.

 

Saúl’s moment was far from over though. In the 66th minute, when Arda passed the ball into the box, it was Saúl who managed to jump in the air and head the ball back towards Antoine, allow the Frenchman to score easily. Antoine ran towards the audience, pointing passionately at the pitch. Cholo lost it too, as he ran along the touchline with both arms stretched like a madman. Before Koke could celebrate properly though, he noticed that Saúl was having a hard time getting up as during his assist he crashed through the line and seemed to have landed badly. Oh no, oh no! Koke felt himself panicking. Please don’t let him be hurt. Not on such a perfect day.

 

Thankfully, Koke’s prayers were answered. Saúl got up with the help of Gabi and Tiago and Koke finally breathed.

 

The final score remained at 4-0, the first league double over Real since the 1950s. When Koke caught Saúl’s eyes, he could hardly contain his own excitement. Embracing his friend in a tight hug, he buried his face in Saúl’s shoulder, who smelt of sweat, musk, grass, and something distinctly Saúl. Koke was familiar with that smell already but today, it felt ten times stronger and more potent.

 

“Our little boy is all grown up, isn’t he?” Antoine’s teasing smirk was hard to miss even under the surreal disco light at the celebration party when he came to join Koke in the corner of the room, “Makes me so proud of our baby.”

 

Koke snorted. He could tell Antoine was already more than a bit tipsy. Granted, he wasn’t much better himself so he felt particularly daring when he teased Antoine back, “Our little boy? Are you so drunk that you can’t tell me from Cholo?”

 

“Fuck you, Jorge!” slurred Antoine with no heat in his words though, “Big of you to talk. At least I’m not hiding in a corner by myself ogling a 19-year-old like some old pervert.”

 

“You’re playing the age card on me?” cried Koke in disbelief, “So what does that make Cholo then?”

 

“It doesn’t make him anything,” smiled Antoine with the satisfaction of a cat who had just licked all the cream, “but maybe your lack of denial makes you something.”

 

Too shocked to respond properly, all Koke could do was to watch open-mouthed as the Frenchman sauntered to join their teammates. Was Antoine implying what he thought the Frenchman was implying? It did not seem like a passing comment either. Koke hoped against hope that Antoine was just too drunk and maybe too horny to function properly and thus interpreted every friendly gesture between two teammates as sexual tension. As for his staring, it was absolutely not true. He was just watching his dancing teammates. It was perfectly justifiable because he was injured himself and couldn’t possibly join them. If he did spare Saúl a glance or two more than the others, it was simply because he was brilliant today and danced most exuberantly. It was definitely not what Antoine suggested.

 

It wasn’t until much later when he was alone in his house, head pounding and ready to pass out, that he realised that Antoine did not exactly deny anything either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antoine's celebration at the match against Malmo was actually what got me started on shipping Antoine/Diego :)


	32. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

If there was anything Koke hated more than losing, it was injuries. His hamstring problem meant that he was out for 3 weeks and had to miss the first leg of the Champions League match against Leverkusen. Cooped up at home, he was growing grumpy and restless. Bea, bless her, tried her best to cheer him up but with little success.

 

“Well, at least she did manage to stop you from snacking your feelings away,” remarked Saúl casually when he stopped by for FIFA the weekend before their departure to Germany, “Cholo would go bonkers if you come back 20 pounds heavier.”

 

“Shut up!” Koke wrestled the control from Saúl’s hands, “I don’t snack my feelings away! And stop beating me in FIFA! I’m injured for heaven’s sake! Show some sympathy.”

 

“It’s your leg that’s injured, not your hand. Or did you hurt your head too?” 

 

Koke threw a pillow at Saúl, who dodged it easily. Smirking, he practically jumped on Koke to take the controller back. Given that he was taller and uninjured and thus more agile, the battle was lost after some tussling. Git, thought Koke darkly when Saúl flashed him a triumphant smile. He did notice though that the youngster was careful not to put any weight of pressure on his injured leg the whole time. Well, at least he wasn’t a complete little shit.

 

When the clock struck 11 pm, Saúl had to leave. Koke insisted on seeing his friend to the door, hopping all the way on one leg. He knew he was close to recovery but he did not want to risk it. At the gate, he couldn’t help but give Saúl a hug, almost losing his balance in the process. Saúl, however, did not laugh at him. “Cheer up, mate,” smiled his friend encouragingly, “it’s only a several more days. At least you don’t have to bear the winter in Germany.”

 

When the match started, Koke was tucked in comfortably at home in his sofa with a bottle of beer and some snacks (he reasoned with himself that surely such a big match justified some indulgence). He had already learned the starting lineup from Saúl and had texted the youngster good luck. Now all he had to do was to enjoy the match.

 

That did not happen. The match turned out to be such a physical one that Koke could hardly believe his eyes. He knew that they liked to play physical games but man did Leverkusen take it to a new level! He soon found himself on the edge of his seat, clutch the beer bottle, effectively warming it instead of drinking it, and praying that nobody would get injured. It seemed that his prayer did not work this time though. Barely after twenty minutes into the match, the match had to be stopped because someone was lying on the grass. When Koke saw the closeup, his heart froze.

 

It was Saúl, lying on his back, clutching his left side painfully. A quick replay showed that a Leverkusen player (Papa whatever his freaking name was) clashed with Saúl when both of them went for a header, his knee crashing into Saúl’s stomach. Without even realising it, Koke had risen up from the sofa to crouch in front of the telly, trying to get as close to his friend as possible.

 

It did not look good. Saúl was still lying on the ground, panting and clearly in pain. He lifted his shirt to look at the left side of his stomach but nothing seemed wrong. Was it some kind of internal bleeding? Did he crack his ribs? Many horrible scenarios raced through Koke’s head, making him slightly dizzy. On the screen, he could see that Grizi and Gabi came to see if Saúl was alright. On the touchline, Cholo looked solemn and Raúl had got up to warm up. ‘Please don’t let him be hurt. Please let him play,’ prayed Koke frantically, as Saúl walked off the pitch to be treated.

 

Eventually, the camera switched back to the game and Koke wanted to smash it. He could not care less what happened in the match. He wanted to know if Saúl was alright. Picking up his mobile, he phoned everyone he could but naturally, nobody was picking up. Shaking slightly, he turned his eyes back to the screen, not to watch the game, but to search for the number 17 or worse, his heart sank again, number 8.

 

To Koke’s great relief, he found the number 17 back on the pitch several minutes later. Breathing deeply, he finally smiled. Saúl was okay. He was still playing. Getting up slowly, he moved back to the sofa to watch the match. Yet somehow, his heart did not completely set back. Something still felt wrong.

 

As the match edged closer to halftime, Koke’s heart rate started to slow down. Maybe everything would turn out fine in the end. They had not conceded a goal. Surely after the halftime they would regroup and attack. Cholo would find a way to break Leverkusen defence. Koke just knew it. 

 

Fate, however, had other plans. A couple minutes before the halftime, the camera switched from the match to Saúl, walking off the pitch. Koke sat up straight immediately. What was going on?

 

On the touchline, Raúl was all warmed up and ready to go. Saúl walked off slowly and once he was off the pitch, he bent down immediately, panting and almost gasping for breath. “No,” cried Koke softly. Something was wrong. That clash 20 minutes ago was far more sinister than anyone had imagined. His heart clenching, Koke fixed his eyes on the telly, hoping the camera would show more of his friend, even though he knew that it was highly unlikely. Once the halftime whistle was blown, Koke fumbled around for his mobile again.

 

This time, somebody finally picked up.

 

“What’s going on? Where’s Saúl? Is he okay?” Koke did not even bother with a hello.

 

“I don’t know,” Antoine sounded worried, “He’s not here. Please, Jorge, do stay calm.”

 

“How can I stay calm now?” exclaimed Koke, “Please tell me what’s happened before I do something really stupid!”

 

Antoine sighed and Koke’s heart sank, “I just got a glimpse of him on a stretcher. I think they’re taking him to a hospital. It…” he hesitated, “It could just be a precauti…”

 

“It’s not a bloody precaution!” yelled Koke, finally losing it, “He could hardly breathe when he was off the field. Something’s wrong and I need to see him!”

 

“Jorge, I…” But Antoine’s voice was interrupted and replaced by that of Cholo, “Listen to me, Jorge!” Cholo’s tone was authoritative, which calmed Koke down immediately, “Do NOT do anything rash. You are not going to fly to Germany. Do you understand me?”

 

Nodding, Koke barely choked out a “yes”. The line was silent for a couple seconds before Cholo spoke again, his tone much gentler this time, “I know how you feel, lad. But you are part of the team. You’re still recovering from your injury. Saúl will never forgive you or himself if you rush here and hurt yourself in the process. We will keep you updated and you can phone him any time. He has his mobile with him. If things really,” he hesitated, “Well, we’ll deal with it then. But for now, stay put in Madrid, okay?”

 

So Koke did. He stayed in Madrid while worried sick about Saúl. He knew that he was not supposed to be this concerned for a friend but he could not help his feelings. For once in his life, he finally felt complete. The missing piece of him, the one nagging him every now and then for so long, had finally been located. Yet he could do nothing about it except wait.

 

Looking back, Koke had no idea how he managed to survive the next few days. Saúl was diagnosed with kidney hematoma, which meant he had to stay in Germany for 4 days and would be out for at least 5 weeks. His own injury almost recovered, Koke went back to training but his heart was hardly in it, which was rare for him for football was everything to him. Instead, he found himself on the phone with Saúl whenever his schedule and Saúl’s strength permitted. His teammates, of course, noticed his unusual behaviour. Most seemed to think he was just worried about a friend, though the knowing looks Antoine gave him still unnerved him. 

 

After the training on Friday, he had been cleared to play in the match that weekend. This happy news failed to put Koke in any mood to celebrate though. He dodged all his approaching teammates and made a beeline for the car park, intent to get on the phone with Saúl. He almost made it, until his paths were blocked by Cholo.

 

“A word Jorge, if you don’t mind.”

 

Sighing, Koke trudged after Cholo to his office. He wondered briefly what Cholo had planned to say to him, only to find himself unable to care.

 

“I’m not going to put you in the starting lineup this weekend,” Cholo got straight to business.

 

Koke shrugged. He did not really expect Cholo to, given that he had been away for 3 weeks. The only problem was that the normal Koke would fight with Cholo even though he knew the manager was making the right choice and would not budge. The Koke today did not, which was a bit of a giveaway.

 

Now looking Koke directly in the eye, Cholo chose his words carefully, “There was a reason why I didn’t want you to fly to Germany. And it had nothing to do with your injury or the team. Yes,” he nodded at Koke’s incredulous look, “No matter how crazy you think I am about football, I assure you that there are things that come before that. I would never deny you the chance to visit a close friend who’s in trouble. Except this is not just that though, is it? It’s so much more and that’s what I’m afraid of.” He sighed, “Now seeing you in such a state, I don’t know if I’ve made the right decision. Just, well, just be careful. Some decisions once made, cannot be undone. I don’t want you to regret it later. You have so much potential.”

 

Mouth slightly open, Koke wished he could tell Cholo that his cryptic message made so sense to him. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what Cholo was talking about, which scared him to no end. Walking slowly towards the car park, he finally picked up the phone to ring Saúl.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” the youngster’s voice was calm and cheerful, though Koke suspected that it was all for him because Saúl could read him like nobody else, even when they were thousands of miles apart and merely speaking on the phone, “I’m still young. I’ll recover. It’s not like I’ve broken my shin or something.”

 

“Don’t say that,” said Koke through gritted teeth, “It’s unlucky.”

 

This time, Saúl actually did laugh, “Come on, Jorge, you know I don’t believe in that. I’ll be fine, really.”

 

“But this is different. This is your kidney for heaven’s sake,” Koke simply could not rest, “What if…”

 

“Now who’s jinxing me?” teased Saúl, “The doctor said I’ll be fine and he knows my medical history. Better trust his expert opinion, don’t you think?”

 

Koke sighed, “I suppose. I just…” he hesitated, “I wish I’m there. You can have a familiar face around and I, well, I’d feel much better that way too,”

 

The other end of the line was silent for a while. Koke did not say anything, not because he had nothing to say. On the contrary, his mind was inundated with words of a thousand meanings yet no concrete sentences could be formed. Or maybe he did not wish to because he feared that his next sentences would betray his feelings. Feelings that he was vaguely aware of yet too terrified to acknowledge. So he waited. He waited for Saúl to figure it out, to take control of the situation, to make the decision for him. He knew it was cowardly. But Saúl had always been the braver one of them. 

 

“I would love nothing more than to have you here,” said Saúl in a low voice after a while. Koke closed his eyes and he could almost imagine the intense yet tender look in the youngster’s grey eyes. “But I don’t think you’re ready, not yet. In any case, I’m coming back to you soon. I always do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The match against Leverkusen was one of the hardest ones to watch. What happened to Saúl broke my heart but made me fell in love with him at the same time. Hence I picked this as the triggering point for Koke too :)


	33. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

It took Saúl a good 39 days to recover from the kidney trauma, during which he spent most of the time lying in bed and resting. Every day after training, Koke would stop by Saúl’s house to visit his friend, helping him with anything he could, since Saúl was not supposed to exert himself. He often stayed for dinner too so that he could keep his friend company. The truth was, without Saúl by his side, the pitch felt strangely large and empty. Training no longer held its usual charm for Koke and had Cholo not been preoccupied otherwise, he surely would have scolded the Spaniard for his lack of concentration.

 

The distraction came in the form of Antoine. After the initial shock and unbelievable shyness since Nando’s return, Antoine had managed to grow out of his fanboy phase to strike up a close friendship with the older striker. They were frequently seen together, which was beneficial for the team as they were to partner up together after all. Koke did not think twice about this new friendship, nor did Cholo seem overly concerned. Recently, however, Koke could tell that Antoine was after something. His relation with Nando had progressed from merely platonic to, well, slightly more physical. Not that there was anything inappropriate between the two. Koke for one knew that Nando was deeply in love with Olalla. Yet he could not shake off the feeling that Antoine acted around Nando with a purpose not present before. His arm would linger on Nando’s shoulder for a fraction too long and his smile towards Nando slightly too bright. Nando tolerated it surprisingly well. In fact, he seemed rather indulgent towards Antoine’s antics. Cholo, on the other hand, was less than pleased. His smile became less and less frequent and their training got harder. Finally, Koke decided to act.

 

“What the hell are you playing at?” He managed to corner Antoine after training and started his interrogation without preamble.

 

“Hello to you too,” smirked Antoine but Koke was having none of it, “Cut it out, Antoine. Something is going on between you and Cholo. Now spit it out so we can fix this before he works all of us to death.”

 

Sighing, Antoine slumped to the nearby bench, all his usual cheek gone. “I don’t know if I can fix it,” he said in a small voice, “He does not, I mean, he said that he won’t…”

 

“You mean,” said Koke carefully, “He does not feel the same way?”

 

“No it’s not that,” exclaimed Antoine, sounding thoroughly exasperated, “I’m sure he feels the same way about me. I can tell. It’s just he’s not willing to act on it. I’ve tried everything I can but he just won’t budge.”

 

Now that Koke could totally imagine if Cholo’s conversation with him about Saúl was anything to go by. The older manager was clearly hesitant to engage in a relationship with his player and Koke understood why. Despite the progressive changes in the society, the world of football was still horrifically homophobic. The taunts and even physical threats from fans of opposing teams, pressure from the team management, tension with fellow footballers, explosive coverage from media, concerns from the sponsors, there were simply too many things to stand in the way of a gay footballer. Koke knew that Cholo had high hopes for Antoine and he could understand why the older Argentine did not wish to stand in his way to greatness.

 

“So you’re getting close to Nando to make him jealous?” asked Koke, knowing the answer already.

 

“That was my plan,” sighed Antoine, “which, as you can see, achieve nothing more than some very exhausting training sessions. I guess it’s stupid but I was hoping this would prompt him into action.”

 

“You know Cholo,” Koke tried to comfort his friend, “He’s not so easily swayed. The fact that he’s angry about this shows that he cares about you, a lot more than he lets on. Maybe you just need to give him more time.”

 

Antoine looked up hopefully, “You think so? I mean I can definitely wait. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’m sure Cholo is worth waiting for.”

 

Feeling relieved, Koke smiled at his friend, before he thought of something else, “Have you told Nando about this? Surely you don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

 

“Ah, yes. I did tell him my plan. Well, sort of.”

 

“What do you mean sort of?”

 

“Okay, okay, I didn’t plan to tell him but he cornered me soon after I started acting that way,” Antoine held up his hands in surrender, “After some probing, I told him everything. I’m glad I did you know. It’s so nice to have someone to confide in about something so forbidden. Nando has been really understanding and helpful. From what he’s told me, he’s had some experience dealing with this kind of problems amongst two teammates before. I wonder who they are though.”

 

Koke, of course, knew exactly who they were. Clearly, he was not the only one who knew of Guaje’s secret. A slight tinge of guilt filled his heart, as he had not been in contact with the older Spaniard for a while. He hoped Guaje was doing okay, though he doubted he could truly be happy when he was thousands of miles and several time zones away from his true love. Was there really no chance of a happy ending for a gay footballer couple?

 

When he got home that night for dinner, Bea was almost surprised to see him. “Oh, I didn’t expect you to be home,” smiled Bea as she stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss, “I thought you’d be over at Saúl’s. How’s he doing?”

 

Unable to look her straight in the eye, Koke mumbled something like “fine”. She did not probe though and simply patted his cheek sympathetically before hurrying into the kitchen. Bea was wonderful like that. She always knew how he felt and she understood him. The thought of hurting her was like a sharp knife to his heart, which made it hard for him to breathe. How could he do that to her? His amazing, beautiful, understanding girlfriend, the girl who had healed him of his heartache 5 years ago, the girl he had loved all this time, the girl he had always wanted to marry and have children with. 

 

Dinner was lovely. Bea’s cooking was getting better each day and she did most of the talking, of light topics like the anecdotes of her students, her upcoming travelling plans, the books she’d read. He knew she was doing it to take his mind off things, for which he was extremely grateful. For once, he was able to forget all his trouble to relax, like the old days, talking, laughing, and playfully arguing with her. Even though he had never realised it before, he missed the normalcy in his life, which had been thrown into such emotional turmoil recently.

 

Once they were settled in the sofa to watch some animal documentary on Discovery Channel, one their favourite pastimes, Koke debated if he should tell Bea. He almost felt it his moral responsibility to divulge such information to his partner, for though he had not transgressed physically, his emotional fidelity was certainly put into question. Yet he feared so much the outcome that he could not bring himself to do it. What was worse, he did not even know what he wanted. Did he really want to come out and be with Saúl? What if it did not work out? What if it ruined both of their careers? What about a family with his own children? What about Bea? Too many questions swam in his mind that he did not realise he had stopped paying attention to the telly until Bea nudged him gently.

 

“Do you want to go upstairs and rest?” asked Bea, ever so considerate, “You look distracted and tired. I can take care of the dishes.”

 

Feeling guilty and impulsive, he told Bea everything about Antoine and Cholo. Bea listened intently throughout the tale and when she did not speak for a few minutes, Koke almost panicked. When she did speak though, her voice was filled with warmth, hope, and sadness, “I really am sorry for both Antoine and Cholo. I know how it feels to love someone with your whole heart. I'm lucky in that I am with that person but I can imagine how shattered one’s heart will be otherwise. How can one blame Antoine? I'd be the same for I'm willing to do anything to be with my love. Poor Antoine, I wish he could realise his wish one day. It's too cruel to be denied love because of the expectations of the society.”

 

“Do you think Cholo was cruel to refuse Antoine?” asked Koke, half to Bea half to himself, “should he just be brave and return Antoine’s feeling instead?”

 

Bea gave him a sad smile, “I don't think Cholo’s concerned about his own reputation. If Antoine had been anyone else, a doctor, a lawyer, anyone but a promising footballer, I'm sure Cholo would have come out with him, society be damned. But Antoine is a footballer with great potential. Cholo only did what he had to protect Antoine’s career. Neither of them did anything wrong. It's the society’s fault, not theirs.”

 

Later that night, when Koke was lying in bed with Bea snuggled closely to him, he came to the painful decision. He could not do that kind of damage to Saúl’s career. He could not break Bea’s heart like this. Despite the yearning of his heart and the calling of his soul, he had to stay friends with Saúl, and nothing more. He wondered if that was what it felt like when Guaje ended things with Silva years ago, to feel torn between two people you cared about deeply, to be made to choose between them, to shut off part of your heart, and to hate yourself for the pain you were going to cause.

 

When Saúl did return to training, he made no mention of Koke’s abrupt cessation of visits. In fact, he acted as if nothing had changed and still treated Koke with his usual friendly playfulness, which made Koke sigh with relief and guilt. He knew that despite Saúl’s outward silence on the matter, the youngster was not oblivious to his sudden change of attitude. If anything, Saúl perhaps understood his internal struggle more than he did himself. Koke, however, vowed to maintain his close friendship with Saúl. He still visited the youngster every now and then after training or a match, especially if Saúl was not playing and thus frustrated with himself. Not wishing to give his friend any false hope though, Koke made sure to keep physical contacts between the two to a bare minimum and always limited to the safe ones. He even invited Saúl over to his place to have dinner with both him and Bea, who, bless her heart, welcomed Saúl with open arms and genuine warmth. 

 

The season ended with little fanfare. They lost to Real, again, in the Champions League quarter-finals by just one goal, which was a hard defeat to swallow, particularly for those who played in the final the year before. They had clinched their La Liga third though by just 1 point ahead of Valencia, thus ensuring their Champions League spot next season. All in all, Koke would not call this season unsatisfactory, despite the somewhat lacklustre results. For one thing, they did not fall apart like so many people predicted, after the departure of key players like Diego Costa and Filipe Luis. Antoine had really blended in and had scored 22 goals in La Liga alone, making him the highest scorer just behind Cristiano Ronaldo and Messi. The return of Nando also proved useful, as their old Captain provided them with experience and had shown signs of returning to his former glory. What really made this season stood out, however, was the development of his and his friends’ personal lives.

 

If anyone had told Koke before the season that he would end up in love with one of his best friends and teammates, he would recommend that person to a psychiatrist. But the reality was that he did fall in love yet could do nothing about it. Ever since he had made that painful decision, Koke found himself frequently doubting himself, wondering if he was making a grave mistake. His only excuse was that Cholo apparently continued to keep Antoine at arm’s length, much to the young striker’s chagrin. Surely someone as seasoned, wise, and cunning as Cholo knew what was best for young players like themselves. Yet sometimes, late at night between sleep and awakeness with Bea in his arms, Koke often wondered what it would like to hold or be held by Saúl’s strong arms. The only thing he could do during those heartbreaking moments was to hug Bea even closer and close his eyes, willing himself to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you know the drill by now: it's not going to have a happy ending. But I seriously love this kind of tormented feeling lol because I think a lot of the times people are separated not because they don't love each other, but because of the circumstances. Also I do love Bea and I hate to villainize the girlfriends and wives of my characters.


	34. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

The summer break came as a welcoming distraction, for Koke could finally get some time to himself, not only away from football, but also from one particular young Spanish footballer. He took Bea to the Maldives at the end of June, once her school semester was over. It was a perfect couple of weeks, full of beautiful beach, sand, sun, and the girl of his dream. He was mostly able to forget Saúl, though the young Spaniard would appear in his dreams every now and then.

 

The holiday ended too quickly in Koke’s opinion and before he knew it, he was saying goodbye to Bea as he had to return to Madrid while she continued on to Croatia. The house in Madrid felt strangely empty, which made Koke wonder if he should invite some of his teammates over. The most obvious choice would be Saúl but Koke was not sure if he was ready to risk it yet. He supposed he could ask Antoine over so they could wallow together. The choices, however, were made for him when Saúl phoned him.

 

“Did I catch you in a bad time?” Saúl tone was purposefully cheerful, “I’m with Ollie and he wants to stop by to say hi.”

 

Right, Oliver Torres was back to Madrid from his season-long loan in Portugal. Koke knew he and Saúl were very close, as they were much closer in age and went through the whole youth teams together. Now that he had withdrawn from Saúl, Koke could not fault his friend for turning to Oliver. Yet, however irrational, he still felt a pang of jealousy towards the lithe and shy young Spaniard.

 

“Er, sure. I haven’t seen him for a while. Why don’t you stop by for dinner? I can invite Antoine too. He hasn’t met Ollie yet.”

 

That was why Koke found himself alone with Saúl in the kitchen later that night when Antoine challenged Oliver to a game of FIFA. The youngster was surprisingly quiet, which made Koke wonder and worry. “Is everything alright? You are awfully quiet today.”

 

Taking a long draught of beer, Saúl shrugged, “I’m fine, just been thinking.”

 

“About?” prodded Koke almost with trepidation, hoping against hope that his friend would not bring up their current relationship.

 

Saúl snorted knowingly at Koke’s worried expression. “Just about my future.”

 

Now that was something unexpected. Koke was almost perplexed, “What do you mean your future?”

 

“Oh, come off it,” replied Saúl a little impatiently, “anyone with eyes can see that I’m not playing a lot of minutes last season. I mean I know I’m still young and inexperienced compared to you lot. But how am I going to grow and gain experience if I don’t play? I can’t sit around on the bench forever.”

 

“You want to leave Atlético?” asked Koke in a small voice.

 

“It’s just a thought,” shrugged Saúl, trying to sound nonchalant, “My agent told me that there are some interested teams, especially in the Premier League. He figured I’d do well there. I mean, I’m pretty strong and my techniques aren’t half bad. We have quite a few Spaniards succeeding in England so I might as well give it a try. The point is, I need to play, and they are willing to provide that. They’ve also promised my position in the…”

 

While Saúl was still talking, Koke could no longer hear his voice. His insides were churning so violently that he was surprised that he wasn’t sick yet. Saúl was planning to leave, to leave Atlético, to leave Madrid, to leave him. How was he going to survive without his friend? Of course, he could fool himself into believing that they’d keep in touch. But Koke knew that in reality, Saúl would be busy with a new country, new language, new club, new football, and before they knew it, they would have grown apart. It might be extremely selfish, but Koke simply could not handle that. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Don’t go.”

 

Saúl stopped his rambling mid-sentence, looking shocked. “I’m sorry?”

 

“Don’t go,” Koke insisted, throwing all caution to the wind, “Don’t leave Atlético. I’m sure Cholo will play you more next season. Tiago and Gabi are getting old. They need rest and you’ll get your chance.” He did not even care if this sounded mean to his older friends, “Please don’t go.”

 

Grabbing his hair in frustration, Saúl sighed, “Jorge you can’t… You’re asking too much… I…” he averted his eyes when Koke took a step closer, “You know football is just one of the reasons why I want to leave.”

 

The look in Saúl’s eyes made Koke’s heart shatter into tiny pieces. The usual cheerful and determined look was replaced with sadness, longing, and maybe resignation. Despite his heart screaming for him to fight harder for Saúl to stay, Koke could not bring himself to do that. If he could not give Saúl the happiness he deserved, at least he should let him go so he could find it somewhere else because heaven knows, Saúl deserved to be happy, way more than he did. Taking a deep breath, he managed a smile on his face, “Of course. You must do what is best for you. Just remember that I’ll always be there for you, supporting your decision, no matter what they might be.” In an attempt to lighten the mood, he teased, “I do reserve the right to gloat in your face when you complain to me about the dreadful English weather though.”

 

In the living room, Antoine and Ollie were shouting and laughing loudly against the noise of the FIFA games. Outside, the neighbourhood was bustling with cars and pedestrians alike coming out to enjoy the night. Yet the silence inside the kitchen seemed so deafening that Koke could hear none of that, for nobody else existed but themselves. Saúl’s grey eyes locked with his, Koke felt his heart constrict and expand at the same time. The grey was so intense and fierce that it was almost black, drowning him in. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He watched Saúl as if in a trance, as the young Spaniard set down his beer bottle on the counter and moved gracefully towards him like a panther. When he felt the warmth of Saúl’s skin against his own, Koke closed his eyes, trying to savour the moment, to carve every single second of the embrace into both his mind and his body. This was not their first hug yet his body had never hummed so contently upon the contact. So many unspoken words were passed between them that Koke was completely overwhelmed. 

 

“Thank you,” Saúl’s soft whisper sounded next to his ears, his hot breath caressing him in a most painfully tantalising way, “It means the world to me. Nothing is decided yet though. Who knows what the future holds.”

 

So Koke allowed himself to hope. For the entire summer, Koke hoped and prayed, that nobody would take his friend away. Finally, miraculously, his prayers were answered. Saúl had decided to stay.

 

“I had a talk with Cholo,” said Saúl casually after one pre-season training, “He promised me more minutes next season. I think I’ll at least stay for another season, just to see how it goes.”

 

None of them mentioned their little encounter in the kitchen of Koke’s house that one summer night, nor how it might have affected Saúl’s decision, Koke because he did not dare, and Saúl, well, Saúl because he was Saúl and knew how some things should be left unsaid.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The season finally started. Koke threw himself wholeheartedly into football again. Saúl still wasn’t playing as many minutes as he’d like. Every time Koke caught sight of his friend’s frustrated face, he felt a pang of guilt. Saúl, of course, never verbalised his complaints. Instead, he just trained harder. Sometimes, Koke could catch him looking exhausted and almost in pain after a long training session. He had tried his best to talk to Saúl but the youngster was stubborn. No, he would not take it easy. The only way to impress Cholo was to work harder. He would earn his minutes on the pitch.

 

The pivotal moment of Saúl career came on November 28, 2015, via a rather unfortunate event. In the game against Espanyol, Tiago, the undisputed starting midfielder and their mentor, suffered an injury barely 30 minutes into the match. He had to be rushed off and Saúl played in his stead. Koke did not think too much of it, assuming it was just another muscle injury or a bruise, until the full diagnosis came out. Undisplaced fracture of his right tibia meant that Tiago would be sidelined for several months, effectively ending his season. When it came to his substitute, nobody had any doubt. Koke often felt guilty, for, despite his concern for Tiago, he could not suppress the delight he felt at this golden opportunity for Saúl, who clinched the chance presented to him with both hands and never let go. 

 

That season was memorable in so many different ways. Antoine was on fire and their biggest star. He did give up his act with Nando, as Cholo’s reaction was not exactly what Antoine was looking for and the team was suffering from Cholo’s bad mood. His relations with Cholo did not seem to go anywhere and he was channelling all his frustration and disappoint into extra energy and motivation in training and matches. Saúl had his breakthrough, occupying the starting XI regularly. His assist for Antoine against Barcelona was simply divine, yet his wonder goal against Bayern was even more magical. Koke had to admit that he did re-watch that goal more times than strictly normal or healthy but he kept it to himself and no one would be any the wiser. They made it to the Champions League final, twice in three years, making them a real force in European football. This time, it was against Real, again.

 

There was a lot of hype building up to the game. The words revenge, heartbreak, rivalry, and fate were scattered around in random newspaper articles. It was hard not to be affected by the atmosphere, especially when they were pretty accurate in describing their current mental state. Koke for one would like nothing more than to avenge themselves against that fateful night two years ago in Lisbon. He was not alone though. Bea took some time off to fly all the way to Milan. Raúl García, who had transferred to Bilbao that summer, went to Milan to cheer for his former teammates. Everyone was hoping they could win, their very first Champions League title. Maybe, thought Koke with faint hope, this time they would be rewarded, after all this time.

 

The night before the match was the hardest to pass. Cholo sent them all to bed early but Koke could not fall asleep. In his room, Saúl was restless too. Koke could not decide if he was grateful or angry for being assigned the same room as Saúl before such a big match. Sure, the sexual tension between them was distracting enough, except it did not exactly calm him to give him the much-needed sleep either.

 

“Are you asleep?” whispered Saúl in the dark and Koke snorted. It was rare for Saúl, who always appeared so collected and mature beyond his age, to appear so nervous that Koke found it almost endearing.

 

“Nope, couldn’t fall asleep,” replied Koke, “You alright?”

 

Saúl took a deep breath, “I’m fine. Just nervous I suppose.”

 

“It’s normal. It’s your first big final match.” Koke tried to comfort his younger friend, “Once you get over this one, you’ll be fine.”

 

“Says the one who can’t fall asleep himself,” snorted Saúl and Koke chuckled.

 

“Do you think we can win tomorrow?” asked Saúl again, after some period of silence. Koke could almost imagine the look in his beautiful grey eyes, full of hope, desire, thirst, and perhaps a tinge of uncertainty.

 

“I do,” said Koke firmly and he wasn’t lying, “We’re in a much better position than last time. We’re better rested, better prepared. Of course, nobody knows for sure but I think we stand a real chance tomorrow.”

 

Saúl sighed wistfully, “Imagine that, winning the Champions League. I just hope we can do it. I’d want nothing more.”

 

Feeling the sudden impulse, Koke blurted out, “What if I’ll give you a, er, surprise, if we win tomorrow.”

 

Across the room, he could hear Saúl gasp softly. Honestly, Koke did not what possessed him to say such things. The only thing he knew was that he was serious. And somehow, Saúl knew it.

 

“I’ll hold you up to it then,” was Saúl’s reply. Koke thought he could hear the faint smile in his voice, which was reflected in his own face as he finally drifted off to sleep.


	35. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

They lost.

 

No matter how much closer they were to the final victory this time, it still slipped their grasp. The moment Juan’s penalty hit the left post, Koke knew it was over. There was no way Cristiano Ronaldo, one of the best penalty kickers in the world, could miss the next one. And he did not.

 

It was hard to describe his feelings at that precise moment. Looking back, Koke felt that everything was blurred as if his mind refused to process all the information, as if it was in denial. There were no tears on his face. He simply looked around, unable to take in what had just happened.

 

He saw Gabi, their brave, strong, resilient captain, their anchor, their rock, broke down completely. His face was buried in Cholo’s broad chest as he sobbed inconsolably. He saw José Jiménez sitting on the pitch, unable to get up, his head hung and his shoulders shaking. He saw Nando standing by himself, tears streaking down his handsome face silently. His quiet tears were just as heartbreaking as Gabi’s violent sorrow.

 

Even amongst all the chaos and heartbreaks, some endured more than the others. Cholo’s expression was sombre but calm. Koke watched his manager walked to all his players, his soldiers, patting them, holding them, trying his best to comfort them. He spent more time with Antoine, as he held the young Frenchman close while whispering soothing words to him. Saúl was the other one holding it together. Walking together with Juanfran, he tried his best to console the Spanish veteran. He was soon seen at Nando’s side, as he held the crying Nando close. When his eyes locked with Koke’s, the older Spaniard saw no tears on Saúl’s handsome face. The only thing he saw was determination and courage, and he felt himself falling in love with the young footballer all over again.

 

The worst thing about the whole ordeal was probably walking up to receive their silver medals. Koke honestly could not understand why this was necessary, other than to prolong their pain. As the Real players lined up for them, Koke could feel the bitterness and anger rise within him. He ducked his head and refused any of the Real players’ gesture of consolation. He knew that he should probably act more mature about it but he absolutely did not give a damn at the moment. When it was time for him to receive the medal, he simply yanked it out of the hand of the UEFA official and walked off as quickly as possible.

 

Luckily for him, Koke managed to dodge all the interview requests. The atmosphere in the changing room was extremely grim. Nobody was in the mood for talking. Finally, Cholo showed up and he simply said, “Let’s go home. Try not to think about and just get some sleep.”

 

After they landed in Madrid, everyone filed out of the plane to get to their cars as quickly as possible. Koke thought he saw Antoine getting into Cholo’s car but he literally had no energy to be even curious about it. He simply felt drained, totally and utterly exhausted both physically and mentally. Bea’s soft hand touched his cheek and he looked up.

 

“Do you want to come home, or do you want to spend the night somewhere else?” her tone was gentle and full of understanding. At that moment, he felt like bursting into tears for the first time that night.

 

“You’re more than welcome to come over to mine,” said Saúl from behind him and Koke whipped his head around so quickly that he almost strained his neck. He saw the exchange between Saúl and Bea and before he knew what was happening, he was escorted to Saúl’s car.

 

Saúl’s house was dark and humid. When Saúl was about to turn on the lights, Koke stopped him, “Don’t,” his voice was low but Saúl had no problem hearing him. Sometimes he wondered if Saúl could hear his thoughts without him speaking out loud.

 

The tentative hand of Saúl felt cool to touch on his cheek. He turned his face to kiss Saúl’s palm, almost instinctively. This was not the smooth petite hand of Bea. It was big and calloused, like his own, yet so much stronger and comforting. Without a word, Saúl held Koke in his own arms, which elicited a sigh from the older Spaniard. Saúl’s broad chest felt so secure that Koke felt himself relaxing for the first time that night. A wet patch soon formed on Saúl’s shirt and Koke was almost surprised to find it there. Only when Saúl’s hand wiped away tears from his face did Koke realise that he was crying silently.

 

The next moment, or maybe it was a century later, Koke found himself lying in Saúl’s bed with the said Spaniard next to him. Both of them were shirtless, though Koke had no idea how they got to that state. Saúl’s skin felt soothingly cold and burning hot against his own. Yet the feeling of being spooned by the bigger Spaniard was so foreign and good that Koke almost sighed with content. He knew he had not a single drop of alcohol in him, yet he was positively intoxicated when Saúl peppered soft kisses on the back of his neck and ears. Slowly turning around, he locked his eyes with the steely grey ones and finally pressed his lips against Saúl’s.

 

The kiss was everything he had imagined and more. Saúl’s lips were dry and slightly chapped and he tasted distinctly masculine. When Saúl parted his lips, Koke dove in with such fervour that he was surprised himself. He was not sure if it was borne out of all these months of pent-up sexual tension or the frustration and anger from that night. Either way, Saúl did not complain. He took the kiss with patience and care and somehow, the pain in Koke’s chest lessened just a little bit. His hand wandered from Saúl’s angular jaw to his chest, his flat abs, and finally, all the way down to the waist of Saúl’s short.

 

“I’m sorry,” Saúl’s tone was gentle but sad, “but I can’t.”

 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Koke felt as if he was doused with a bucket of ice water. Was he wrong the whole time? Had he presumed way more than he should?

 

“It’s not that,” added Saúl hastily. There was so much pain on his face that Koke felt his anger disappear instantly, “I physically can’t. I…” he hesitated, chewing his lips anxiously, “I cannot do anything like that this soon after a match, particularly such a long gruelling one.”

 

Koke rose up, resting on his elbow, and stared at Saúl, “Whatever do you mean by that? Is there something wrong?”

 

The smile on Saúl’s face was so melancholy that Koke felt his heart clench painfully, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be alright again. That kidney injury in Leverkusen wasn’t my first, you see. I’ve already had one when I was on loan to Vallecano. But the one last year was worse, much much worse. After that, I just, well, I had to use a catheter and often pee blood.” Koke felt his face blanch. He never knew. His friend and love had been suffering this whole time and he never knew because he was too caught up in his own stupid little world to ask, to see. “You’re really not supposed to exert yourself after kidney trauma but I just can’t give up football. I don’t know who I’ll be if I do. So I begged Cholo to let me train and play. He wasn’t happy about it but he finally gave in. But to continue like this, I have to be very careful and what you wanted to do,” Saúl’s face turned slightly pink, “it wasn’t advisable, according to my physician anyway.”

 

Completely lost for words, Koke did the only thing he could. He embraced Saúl with his arms and hugged him tightly. There was much he was trying to convene through the hug that he could not say out loud, how much he respected the youngster, how impressed he was, how sorry he felt, and most of all, how much he loved him. Saúl seemed to understand him though, like he always did, as he hugged Koke back and rested his head on Koke’s shoulder.

 

The next morning came too soon for Koke’s liking. He could not remember when they finally fell asleep, tangled in each other’s limbs, but he had never felt so content in his life. Except he knew this could not last, that it was almost a dream, too good to be true. Next to him, Saúl stirred slowly. When he opened his eyes to look into Koke’s, he gave the older Spaniard a serene smile, full of understanding.

 

“We better get up soon,” said Saúl peacefully, “Beatriz should be here soon to pick you up.”

 

“Saúl I…” stuttered Koke. He felt the need to say something except he knew not what.

 

“It’s okay, Jorge,” Saúl’s eyes were soft, “I understand. I’ll always be your best friend. I’ll always be there for you.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later, much much later, a couple years later, in fact, he met up with Antoine for coffee one hot summer afternoon and the topic of that night was brought up for the first time. He had grown really close to Antoine over the years, probably because they shared the same pain and heartache. Koke had never told anyone else about his relationship with Saúl, not even Guaje, even though he understood the veteran’s decision regarding Silva now more than ever. Yet somehow it felt too personal and too painful to talk about Saúl and Koke was not ready to open the wound yet. He never had to tell Antoine anything though because Antoine understood, because Antoine had been there too.

 

“I slept with him you know?” said Antoine almost casually and Koke promptly choked on his coffee. Coughing violently, it took him a while to calm down. Once he did, he rasped out, “With Cholo?”

 

“No, with Germán.” Antoine made a face and Koke gagged, “Of course with Cholo.”

 

“You know, you’ve officially traumatised me twice within 30 seconds. Well done!” snapped Koke sarcastically, “Germán I ask you!”

 

“Well,” shrugged Antoine, “he may not be the best choice but his name was the first to pop into mind so there you go.”

 

“Honestly, do you have a thing for older blokes or something?”

 

“A daddy kink?” asked Antoine with great interest and Koke almost turned green. He was trying very hard not to imagine the picture that involved Antoine, Cholo, and daddy kink… “That’s an interesting thought. But,” his smile faded, “it’s not like I’m going to find out, not with him anyway.”

 

Koke looked at Antoine and asked the next question very carefully, “So it was a one-time thing?”

 

Antoine closed his eyes, “Yes, it was a mistake but we were too wrapped up in our misery to realise it. At least that was what he told me the morning after. It was just to help me get through that night. It would never happen again. He made it perfectly clear.”

 

Putting his hand on top of Antoine’s, Koke felt for the young Frenchman. He honestly felt lucky that he did not do anything with Saúl that night because once he had, he was not sure if he’d have the willpower to stay away. “I’m sorry. It must be really hard.”

 

“Sometimes it gets too hard,” whispered Antoine, “seeing him, listening to his voice, being in close proximity to him, not just occasionally but practically every day. I just can’t do it anymore.”

 

“What do you mean?” spluttered Koke.

 

Antoine looked at him straight in the eyes, “I’m leaving. I’m going to England. The transfer has been finalised even though it hasn’t been announced yet. But I’m packing and leaving in a couple weeks.”

 

A numb feeling slowly engulfed Koke. He felt utterly lost. In the back of his mind, he knew that something like this was bound to happen. He had seen the longing looks and the sadness in Antoine but he never could imagine the Frenchman actually leaving. Who could blame him though? One’s heart could only take so much. Antoine deserved to be happy and this might be his only chance at happiness.

 

“I’m going to miss you,” he muttered into Antoine’s hair as he hugged the Frenchman, “I’m going to miss you so much but I understand. Good luck, with everything!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably one of the most emotional ones for me to write. I still remember that final and I cried so hard after the match. I also remember how brave and unbelievably strong Saúl was. He's got such a big heart that it's easy to forget he's so very young, which made him even more impressive. I was thus not at all surprised when the interview about him came out later when he talked about his struggle with his kidney injuries. I really hope I've done him justice in this fic.


	36. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

The charity match of David Silva in 2021 was a well-attended success. Koke was honestly a bit surprised to receive an invitation, as he was never particularly close to the midfielder. Their interactions in La Selección were friendly but mostly professional, unless one counted the time he tried to shield Guaje from Silva in the 2014 World Cup and Koke doubted that could really endear him to Silva to warrant such an invitation. What surprised him more was Saúl’s inclusion.

 

“I think he invited anyone he had ever played with in La Selección, Man City,” said Saúl casually, “I heard that he even included those from his old Valencia days.”

 

“Are you going then?”

 

“Of course. Why not? The season is over. Might as well play one more match before we go on holidays.”

 

So they went. The match was held in Manchester, which was quite pleasant in early June. The extensive attendee list meant that they ran into many old friends, such as Nando, Sergio Ramos, Iker Casillas, and Guaje. The latter’s presence sparked Koke’s curiosity. He wondered if Guaje and Silva ever did make up after their rather messy split. They acted completely normal around each other though, greeting and hugging each other like old friends but nothing. Koke frowned. Did this mean that they were friends now or just that they were acting in front of all the bystanders?

 

“So those two then?” asked Saúl matter-of-factly and Koke choked, “How do you?”

 

Saúl shrugged, “You hear things. I don’t think they were particularly discreet about it when they were together back in Valencia. A couple of my ex-teammates in Vallecano used to play in Valencia youth team and they knew about them.”

 

Casting a concerned look at the two Davids, Koke lowered his voice, “Do many outside the football world know? You know what this could mean for their car…”

 

“Their career?” laughed Saúl though there was no mirth in his voice, “Villa has retired and Silva is about to. I won’t be surprised if he announces his retirement after this match. It’s not like him to put himself in the limelight after all, is it? So they have no career to worry about.”

 

“Saúl,” Koke opened his mouth but Saúl cut him off, “Forget about it. We need to go meet Silva now. The match is about to start.”

 

No matter how much Koke wanted to continue their unfinished conversation, it had to wait until after the match. Both he and Saúl played in the first half and they were thankfully on the same team. Koke had played with Saúl next to his side for so long that the idea of playing against his friend was unthinkable. The match went on like a charity match should, friendly and aggression free. Well, almost, because there was always a danger of excess aggression when Sergio Ramos was on the pitch. Koke honestly did not think Sergio meant it, but his clash with Saúl was just a tad too strong, which had Saúl crouch down holding his left side.

 

Everything seemed to have stopped around him. Nobody but Saúl mattered. Pushing through the meaningless faceless bodies surrounding Saúl, Koke rushed to Saúl’s side. “Saúl! Saúl! Are you okay? Is it your kidney? Talk to me please, Saúl.”

 

Next to him, Sergio Ramos was speaking, apologising or babbling Koke knew not. Nor did he care. He just wanted Saúl to tell him he was fine, that he was not hurt.

 

“I’m fine, Jorge,” said Saúl though with some difficulty, which did little to convince Koke. “It was just a stupid challenge, honestly,” he added when Koke still looked worried, “I’m not made of glass.”

 

“But your kidney…”

 

“Is fine,” insisted Saúl as he struggled to get up. Holding his friend up, Koke inspected Saúl closely for any signs of discomfort, which made the youngster groan. Once he got back on his feet though, the first thing Saúl did was to exchange a meaningful look with Silva. Before Koke knew it, both he and Saúl were subbed off, not that Koke really cared. The sooner he could get Saúl to a proper doctor to check out his injuries, the better.

 

“Have you lost your mind?” asked Saúl the moment they were off the pitch in the tunnel.

 

“What do you mean?” Koke was utterly lost. Did Saúl hit his head as well?

 

“I mean your overreaction,” Saúl sighed with exasperation, “It was just a contact that made me a hurt a bit. I’ll get a bruise tomorrow in the worst case scenario. But what you did there, it was…”

 

“I was worried about you!” cried Koke heatedly. He did not understand how Saúl could blame him for caring about him.

 

“And I’m grateful for that!” exclaimed Saúl in equal frustration, “But you are the one who doesn’t want anyone to know about us because you don’t want to ruin your career! I’ve accepted your decision because I only want the best for you. But now you just go out there and…” he closed his eyes as if in pain, “I can’t do this anymore, Jorge. I can’t pretend to be who I am not. I’m tired of this.”

 

Koke gasped. He knew what Saúl was thinking but he could not fathom the consequences of such actions. “Please Saúl, I’m sorry. I overreacted and I promise I’ll never do it again. But you can’t,” he lowered his voice to barely more than a whisper, “come out, not while you’re still playing. Think about the fans. Think about the team! Can you even imagine what Madrid derby will be like? You’ll never have a moment of peace.”

 

With a heavy sigh, Saúl buried his face in his palms. He had never looked so tired and weary before. “I don’t know. I know it won’t be easy and it’ll probably make my life a living hell. But… I don’t know. It’s not like I can find peace within myself now anyway.”

 

Biting his lips nervously, Koke tried one last time, “Please Saúl, just think carefully about it before you make a decision. Certains things once said can never be unsaid.”

 

Before Saúl could respond, Silva came into the tunnel. Casting a quick look between the two, he seemed to grasp the situation immediately. Without a word, he nodded to Koke before beckoning Saúl forward. Koke watched them go, his heart filled with lead. No matter what his mind told him, his heart could never forget the broken look on Saúl’s face, which made him truly wonder if he had been the one wrong all along.

 

The rest of the match went by smoothly. Saúl’s mood seemed to have improved significantly after his conversation with Silva. Koke was relieved, though still a bit surprised and even alarmed as he saw the youngster striking up a much closer friendship with the older Spaniard. At least Silva was sensible, apart from that incident with Guaje, Koke tried to comfort himself. But maybe they were really meant to be each other’s friends, as Silva announced his retirement after the charity dinner, just as Saúl predicted. In any case, Saúl clearly needed someone who had been through all this. As Koke could not give him that, Silva was really the best option.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Life went on. Another season came and went. Koke continued to focus on his football while Saúl stayed silent about his sexual orientation, much to Koke’s relief. The only change in their lives had been the inclusion of Silva in their conversation, as the older Spaniard had moved back to Spain after his retirement. Even though he was perfectly amiable, Koke never felt comfortable enough around Silva for them to become true friends. Maybe it was the guilt or maybe it was the fear of rejection, for Koke felt that Silva was a victim of similar behaviours and thus had every right to be unimpressed by his. Saúl, however, grew closer to Silva and frequently brought him up in conversations.

 

“David told me this wonderful story about one of his older relatives from WWII,” said Saúl when they were out for dinner one day. Koke shrugged but Bea seemed interested, “What is it about?”

 

“It’s a story about the French resistance group. His relative, who was half Jewish half Spanish, used to be part of that group. They were fighting Nazis in occupied France to help the Jewish population there.”

 

“How brave and noble!” cried Bea. She had always been interested in the heroic tales of the past, “What happened to them?”

 

“I’m afraid there was no happy ending,” replied Saúl with a grimace, “His relative made it out of France to Spain and died of old age. But the majority of his comrade died in their missions. They didn’t even get recognised, as they were not officially registered anywhere.”

 

“Oh that’s really sad,” said Bea, her eyes wide, “war brings out the best and worst in everyone, doesn’t it? Even the most ordinary people can turn out to be true heroes. It’s too bad we often overlook their contributions. I wish there can be more books or better films made about them. It will inspire more people to stand up and fight for the right things, no matter how hard it might be.”

 

“True indeed,” said Saúl thoughtfully. The arrival of dessert, however, put an end to that conversation.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later that year, when Koke was on holiday with Bea in the surreally beautiful and majestic Arizona sandstone rock formations, he just blurted out the question he’d been meaning to ask for a while, “Bea, will you marry me?”

 

A week later, they arrived in Las Vegas. After a particularly wild night, they somehow ended up in a small chapel, laughing while waiting for their turn. Right before they walked down the aisle though, Bea stopped him, looking surprisingly lucid and sober given the amount of alcohol they’d consumed, “We don’t have to do it now. We can always wait.” Her big brown eyes bore deep into his soul, “I only want you to be happy.”

 

“I am happy, with you,” said Koke, which he knew was actually not a lie. He did love Bea and she was the only girl he could ever dream of marrying, “And I want to do it now.”

 

Saúl’s text of congratulations came a day after his own text. It was short and to the point. Koke did not dwell on how Saúl really felt, mostly because he was afraid of the truth.

 

Three months later, Bea was pregnant. After another nine months, Koke became a father for the first time to a beautiful baby boy. When he held his son, so small and fragile, red and wrinkly like all newborns, yet so absolutely perfect, he felt so much love and pride swell within him towards this little baby and his wife, his beautiful brave Bea who looked exhausted after a 16-hour long labour yet still positively radiant, and he knew his life was theirs.

 

“Shall we ask Saúl to be his godfather?” asked Bea after they had arrived home from the hospital. Koke stopped on his track to turn to look at his wife. “He’s your best friend,” smiled Bea, “It feels right.”

 

So he picked up the phone, for the first time in many months, and dialled the number he had memorised by heart.

 

“Jorge,” Saúl’s deep voice was so achingly familiar that Koke had to fight the urge not to break down on the spot, “I’ve heard the good news. Congratulations.”

 

“Thanks,” said Koke almost awkwardly, “Little Eugenio is very healthy and lively.”

 

The chuckle on the other end of the line was filled with warmth, “I bet he’s just like you, isn’t he? Is he a chubby baby too?”

 

“Hey,” cried Koke in fake annoyance as he could hardly contain his smile, “do not insult my weight. Besides, babies are supposed to be chubby and cute.”

 

“Whatever you say, mate,” laughed Saúl and Koke felt that everything was almost back to normal.

 

“Listen, would you be little Eugenio’s godfather?” asked Koke cautiously. Saúl’s laugh stopped abruptly, which made Koke’s heart sink. Surely he was not going to refuse.

 

“Is that your idea, or Bea’s?” asked Saúl after a pause. Koke hesitated. He was not sure which answer Saúl was looking for. He found himself often at loss what Saúl wanted nowadays. In the end, he opted for the truth, “Bea brought it up first. But I would have asked you anyway.”

 

That seemed to be the right answer, as Saúl sounded cheerful again when he answered, “Of course I will. It will be my honour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where we stray from reality to venture into my imagination :)


	37. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

Ever since the arrival of little Eugenio, Koke and Bea’s life had shifted focus. Holidays were no longer spent entirely hopping between exotic locations, as Eugenio was too young to travel that way. Instead, they spent more time at home and only a week away, usually to some kid-friendly vacation spot. That was why Koke found himself back in their Madrid house in early July, getting Eugenio ready for dinner with the telly on in the background.

 

“We’re out of milk again,” Bea’s voice came from the kitchen, which made Eugenio gurgle happily. Eugenio was very energetic and responsive for a one-year-old. “I think we’re low on diapers too. I’ll pop into the shop.” her head popped out of the kitchen, “Will you be fine with Genio?”

 

Koke waved his hand to indicate that he was perfectly capable of taking care of their one-year-old son on his own for half an hour. Smiling, Bea grabbed her bag and left the house.

 

Back to his current task, Koke set Eugenio’s food on the table. Once Eugenio had tucked into his dinner with great enthusiasm, Koke chanced a look at the telly. To his surprise, Saúl’s face was shown and it looked like he was giving an interview. Frowning slightly, Koke turned on the volume so he could hear it.

 

“Since there’s no major tournament going on this summer, you must have had a good relaxing break,” the interviewer was a young female who was ogling Saúl in what she apparently thought was a surreptitious manner. Koke snorted to himself. If only she knew Saúl’s type. “Where did you go?”

 

“It was a good holiday, thank you for asking,” said Saúl politely, “We spent some time in Ibiza and then Africa. It was quite an adventure.”

 

“Did you go with your brothers?”

 

“Yes, it was a bit of a family holiday. Aarón, Jony and I all brought our families along.”

 

“Your family?” squeaked the interviewer, sensing something coming up as she sat up straighter, her hawk-like eyes fixated on Saúl’s face. Koke frowned. What was Saúl playing at? “Do you mean you’re finally going to tell us that you have a girlfriend.”

 

“Not quite,” smiled Saúl, “But my boyfriend did enjoy Africa, as he was quite an animal lover.”

 

The plate Koke had been holding fell to the floor and smashed. Eugenio was clearly amused by the sound, as he squealed happily and waved his little spoon enthusiastically, splashing food everywhere. Koke, however, was paying his son no attention at all. His eyes were fixed on the television screen with his mouth hanging open. He simply could not believe what he had just seen. Had Saúl really just come out on television, in front of a simpering girl who was equally shocked? It seemed true enough though, as the girl quickly recovered and started bombarding Saúl with questions. Some of them were very personal but Saúl remained perfectly composed to answer some of the questions while dodging the others. Clearly, this was not a slip of the tongue. He had been planning this.

 

The ringtone of his mobile brought Koke out of his trance. Rushing to pick it up, Koke saw Antoine’s face on the caller ID and he sighed. Of course, Antoine would be the first one to phone.

 

“Are you watching it?” Antoine did not bother with a hello, “Holy shit!”

 

“Hello to you too,” said Koke sarcastically, “And please watch your language. My son is having his dinner.”

 

“Okay whatever,” Koke could almost imagine Antoine shrugging on the other end of the line, “But seriously, have you…”

 

“Yes,” sighed Koke laboriously, “I’m watching it right now.”

 

“Bloody hell!” cried Antoine and Koke gave up crying to moderate his friend’s language, “Can you believe it? Saúl’s my hero!”

 

“And a downright idiot,” replied Koke solemnly, “He’s going to face hell from now on. I can’t even imagine what’s happening in those social media sites now. This will make the front page, which will make him the prime target for taunts, insults, and who knows what!”

 

“That’s precisely why he’s my hero!” said Antoine, more serious now, “You know Saúl. He doesn’t just rush into things. If he does something, it’s always a conscious choice. He must have thought it through and still decides to go with it. It takes real courage, which most of us lack.”

 

Even though Antoine’s tone was not accusatory, Koke still felt somewhat guilty. There was no denying the truth in Antoine’s words though. “I know. I just…” he chewed his lips nervously, “I worry about him. Nobody has done this before and I don’t even know how bad it will get.”

 

“We don’t know,” agreed Antoine, “But we’ll find out. We’ll be there for him though, won’t we?”

 

“Of course we will,” said Koke without thinking. As much as he dreaded the whole thing, the idea of not helping Saúl through this was simply unfathomable to Koke. He would be brave and strong just like Saúl for once and stick with his friend no matter what.

 

And man did Saúl need all the help he could get in the next couple months. It had been a total disaster and mad-fest. It was hard to get to Saúl’s place without herds of photographers taking a snapshot of him. The internet had also exploded with excitement. It seemed like every football fan out there felt it was their business to get into Saúl’s personal business. Saúl had to close all his social media accounts due to the ridiculous amount of messages and comments he’d been receiving. A lot of them were supportive, but hates were still out there in large numbers.

 

“What I don’t understand,” said Saúl when Koke went to visit him one day, after dodging several photographers on the way, “is that why the whole society can be tolerant of one’s sexuality unless you’re a footballer. I mean what’s so special about us? Why do we have to be straight?”

 

“Because we are supposed to represent pure masculinity,” said Silva sagely. He had flown in from the Canary Islands just to show support to Saúl. Due to the publicity madness around Saúl’s place, Silva had pretty much taken residence there, which caused speculation that the retired footballer was Saúl’s secret boyfriend. Silva, it seemed, did not give a damn, “the proper dominant alpha male that is harder to find these days due to the equal rights moves and feminism. For those who harbour the secret wish for male dominance again, we’re their last hope. Of course they’re not going to like it when we turn out to be gay.”

 

“So basically everyone who has been too afraid to be politically incorrect on the matter in other areas are just using football as a way to vent,” said Saúl angrily, “Brilliant. Just bloody fantastic.”

 

Even though Koke was no sociology expert (Saúl was the one who read the news every day), he had to agree that the argument made sense. It didn’t make it right though. People should not be judged for who they loved, thought Koke sadly. He wished there was something more he could do, not just for his own sake or even for Saúl’s sake, but for all the closeted gay footballers out there.

 

If the summer break was crazy enough, it was nothing compared to the start of the season. The team and Cholo had accepted the news with good humour while the management expressed their support for Saúl. Their own fans, forever loyal and fierce, stood firmly behind Saúl as well. The same could not be said for the rest of the world. 

 

Their first match of the season, which unfortunately was an away match, turned out to be a total disaster. The home fans took their time with the decorations. Flags and banners of derogatory words and pictures covered the stands. They never stopped their bullying and intimidation throughout the match either. Curses and booing noises were so loud whenever Saúl had the ball that Koke could not even hear the whistles of the ref. He kept shooting Saúl concerned looks but the younger footballer looked stoic and stubborn. Koke could tell Saúl was trying his best to ignore it all and he applauded his friend for his courage. But it was clear that the team was affected and their performance suffered. As a captain, he had to do something, except he wasn’t sure what.

 

They lost the game 0-1 and the team walk dejectedly towards the tunnel amidst jeers and boos from the entire stadium. Cholo did not say much outside, simply waving them to go back to the changing room. The home team, however, was ecstatic. They never imagined they would stand a chance against Atlético and were hoping for a draw. Inside the tunnel, a couple of their players seemed drunk with victory. 

 

“Everything alright, lover boy,” one of the players taunted at Saúl, “Need daddy to lend you a shoulder to cry on? Or do you want something else from the big boys here?”

 

Before he even realised it, Koke found himself on top of the disgusting excuse of a footballer while punching his ugly face into a more attractive shape. Screams and yells exploded around him until he was finally pried off that miserable wanker by Cholo and Saúl.

 

“Get out of here, now!” hissed Cholo, “and don’t let anyone see you! Talk to no one and stop for no one! And for Christ’s sake, don’t drive yourself.”

 

That was why he ended up in a borrowed car with Saúl driving them out of the stadium complex. His blood still pumping, Koke breathed hard. Saúl kept shooting him sideway glances but Koke could see the faint upward twitch of his friend’s mouth. 

 

Antoine’s ringtone disrupted the silence of the car and Koke fumbled around for his mobile. He wondered why the Frenchman phoned. He couldn’t possibly know this so fast.

 

“That was one hell of a fight!” It seemed that Antoine had officially abandoned normal greeting etiquette, “I didn’t know you pack such a mean right hook.”

 

“How the hell…” spluttered Koke while Saúl laughed next to him.

 

“Lucas facetimed me while it happened,” chirped Antoine and Koke made a mental note to kick Lucas in the groin the next moment he saw the French defender. “It was brilliant! Well done, Kokito!”

 

“Shut up, Antoine,” snapped Koke, “this isn’t funny! And stop calling me Kokito.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Antoine was clearly unaffected by Koke’s foul mood, “Is Saúl next to you? Let me talk to him.”

 

Throwing his hand up in resignation, Koke passed the mobile to Saúl so he could sulk quietly by himself. He did not know what his punishment would be, probably bad, but he could not find it within him to care. Oh well, thought Koke, at least I get to spend more time with Bea and Eugenio. And I’ve got something to prove to Eugenio that I’m a cool dad. Well, maybe when he’s older.

 

Saúl dropped him off at his place. Bea was utterly flabbergasted at Koke’s dishevelled state but calmed herself down after Saúl explained the whole situation.

 

“Well done, my love!” cried Bea fiercely as she hugged first Koke and then Saúl, “I’m glad you taught him a lesson, that despicable lowlife! He has no right! I’m so proud of you, both of you!” She paused and looked at them seriously, “If you need any martial arts training, I’m more than happy to help. I am a taekwondo black belt after all.” Saúl laughed and Koke remembered yet again why he was so in love with the woman standing in front of him.

 

What transpired in the next few days was not exactly what Koke had expected. He was suspended, unsurprisingly, for 5 games for violent and inappropriate behaviour. The other footballer did not receive so much as a verbal reprimand. But Koke was pleased to hear that his nose was deformed and would like to remain that way for a very long time. A text message from the other team’s captain came as a bit of a surprise, for he was sincerely apologetic for his teammate’s and their fans’ behaviour and offered his apologies to both Koke and Saúl. This brought a smile to Koke’s face, for there were still decent people out there who could see past rivalries. In the social media, Antoine and many other footballers, both current and retired, joined up to show their support for Saúl. 

 

The most surprising of them all, was David Silva. Not because he tweeted a message of support, which was totally expected given his ever closer friendship with Saúl, but because he came out in that message too. Denying any romantic relationship with Saúl, he, however, told everyone else that he was gay and proud to be one. Impressed by Silva’s courage, Koke wondered how Guaje reacted to this message.


	38. Period 5 - 2014 - 2030 AD

Despite all the support and Silva’s help, both by being with Saúl and by coming out himself to divert some attention off Saúl to himself, the season was still difficult. Saúl remained the centre of bully and ridicule in almost all the matches. Since all his social media accounts were closed, some more extreme fans from other teams had started sending hate mails to the club, including some death threats. Saúl, however, bore it all with dignity and courage. He never wavered in his position regarding his own sexuality. If anything, he appeared more outspoken about it. More photos of him and his actor boyfriend could be seen whereas Saúl was extremely private before. His effort in training doubled and he seemed to be the only one on the team whose form was not affected by this whole mess.

 

“How do you do it?” asked Koke one day, after a match won at home by Saúl’s header. In the background, shouts and taunts from the away fans could still be heard yet Saúl did not even blink. “Taking it all in stride. I know you’re pretty tough and all that but honestly, I can’t imagine anyone not crack under such pressure.”

 

Looking up from his seat, Saúl thought about it for a moment. “I suppose I just try to compartmentalise my life, you know, into football, family, friends, and everything else. That way I can just focus on the important parts and ignore everything else.”

 

“But how does it not get to you?”

 

“Of course it gets to me,” cried Saúl, standing up and throwing his towel on the bench, “How can it not? When they say those awful things about me and about my family, I assure you it gets to me.” He took a deep breath and said, “But I cannot just give in, can I? That will be their victory, not mine. I have to keep fighting. I have to show the world that a gay footballer can be a bloody brilliant one, that we’re good enough. I just need to keep reminding myself that it is something worth fighting for because it is.”

 

Koke looked at his friend and he had never felt so proud of him. He always knew that Saúl was the braver of the two but the courage and determination he had shown in the whole ordeal had just earned him Koke’s eternal respect. “I’m really proud of you,” said Koke sincerely, “You’re so brave, much braver than I can ever be.”

 

A slight tinge of pink coloured Saúl’s face and he looked almost abashed, “Thanks. I try my best but sometimes it gets really tough. David’s been a massive help. He’s so patient and supportive. The story he told me also gives me more strength to go on. I mean, those Resistance fighters were risking their lives for something they believed in. Surely I can suffer through some bad press.”

 

“Maybe you should ask your boyfriend to make a film about that story,” said Koke, half joking half serious, “Surely stories like this can inspire more people.”

 

“Hmm,” mused Saúl, “Maybe I will. I can certainly tell him the story. Maybe he can find some filmmaker interested. It can’t hurt, can it? I mean anything that might help is worth trying.”

 

That got Koke thinking. Was there anything he could do? He desperately wanted to help not only Saúl but also any other closeted footballers. But other than showing his support via social media and being there for his friend, he could not think of anything else.

 

“You should found a society for that,” said Bea seriously when Koke mentioned it to her one day at dinner.

 

“What will the society do though,” asked Koke sceptically, “apart from showing support, which frankly we’re already doing, though it’s not really working though, is it?”

 

“Oh I’m sure there’s more to do than that,” Bea’s eyes lit up just like when she was excited about something, “It can bring awareness of homophobia in sports to the general public. I’m sure someone can do some research into the reality of the situation. People know it’s an issue but nobody knows how much it’s affecting the lives of the gay footballers. We need to show that to them. That’s how you influence public opinion, isn’t it? You can also gather fund to support footballers that come out and lose their jobs. That will alleviate some of their concerns. There should be some law or regulations in place to ban fans from those abusive behaviours during the match so someone needs to lobby that. It all takes money and effort. Nobody has addressed this problem before. Everyone has been sweeping it under the rug, pretending it didn’t exist, until now. Saúl’s coming out is a great opportunity.”

 

“Man you’ve given this quite some thought,” said Koke, extremely impressed by Bea’s ideas.

 

Bea shrugged, “I care about these things. Besides, I know you care so I want to help,” the look she gave him was full of encouragement, “If there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you. You’re practical, dedicated, and motivated. So why not do it? I mean your retirement is coming up in the next couple of years. Why not do it after your retirement?”

 

Now that was something Koke had been dreading, his retirement. He knew of course that Bea was right. He was 32 already and he might be able to play another 3 years. But what would he do afterwards? The most obvious choice would be coaching. Yet Koke was never that enthusiastic about it. For one thing, he wanted to take a break from football. For another, he doubted that he could have the charisma like Cholo did to pull the whole coaching thing off. He always preferred to work behind the scenes, kind of like what he had been doing on the pitch. So maybe Bea’s idea was actually a better fit for him. He knew that he was not the most famous nor most popular footballer out there. But he could easily use his connections and friendship to get more help.

 

“Thank you so much, love,” Koke kissed Bea as he helped her put away the dishes, “I’ll definitely think about it.”

 

And he meant it. There might still be hesitation or even fear on his part, but he was determined to fight for once in his life. He would not let Saúl down this time. He tried to imagine how much Saúl’s life would improve if this society thing really panned out and he knew that he had to at least try because after everything else, this was the least he could do for Saúl.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Time had passed surprisingly fast. Koke talked to Saúl and Silva about Bea’s idea, which received their full support. It was not easy to start it at the beginning. Not all the closeted gay footballers wanted to come forward with their stories, even with the fund raised to help them with their career. Moreover, Koke himself had become the part of the speculation too, his sexual orientation and relationship with Saúl put under scrutiny.

 

“Will we ever change people’s opinion on this?” asked Koke despondently one day after he had received several hate messages on Twitter.

 

“It just takes time,” said Silva calmly. He himself had received far more unpleasant messages yet he seemed forever composed, “It’s hard to change people and opinion overnight. Look at Germany. The actual denazification took generations to achieve. Just don’t lose hope.”

 

Once Koke was alone with Saúl, the younger footballer opened his mouth to apologise, “I’m really sorry for dragging you and Bea into this, particularly Bea. She’s been nothing but supportive and understanding and I really hate to think that she’s the receiving end of those nasty comments.”

 

The mention of his wife’s reaction to this actually brought smiles to Koke’s face. Bea had categorically refused to be upset about those “lunatics with nothing better to do” on the internet. “I don’t give a f**k about their opinion,” said Bea with a fierce look in her eyes, “They’re nothing but a group of narrow-minded losers who can only achieve gratification in their pathetic lives through spreading hate and misery. They can shove their stupid opinion right up their stinky arse.” Koke wished he could take the abuse as well as she did.

 

“She’s fine really,” smiled Koke, “You know Bea. She’s a fighter, just like you. All that madness only fueled her determination to help eradicate this injustice and discrimination.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Koke retired another couple of years later, at the age of 35. He supposed he could keep playing for another year or two, but he wanted to dedicate his time to his Society for the Just Treatment of Gay Sportsmen, which was gaining more support and popularity. In his last match, the charity match for his society, Saúl, Guaje and Silva all turned up. So did Antoine and Cholo, except they turned up hand in hand. Antoine looked positively radiant while Cholo wore a gentle soft smile on his face. Koke could hardly hide his pride and happiness for his friends.

 

Saúl did not retire for another 3 years but he did move to Los Angeles to play for LA Galaxy. Koke was happy for him, for California was much more liberal and tolerant towards gay sportsmen. What surprised him even more was the new release of a film about French Resistance in Nazi Germany several years later with Saúl’s boyfriend in it. It seemed like Saúl did do the impossible. He had managed to bring the story of those names lost in history back to the silver screen so they could be remembered forever.

 

For the rest of his life, Koke stayed with Bea. He had to admit he was happy and very much in love with his wonderful wife and his beautiful family, which consisted of 2 boys and a baby girl. If he had to choose again, he doubted that he would have chosen otherwise. Yet still, he could not shake off the feeling that he was incomplete, that his heart was yearning for Saúl. He learnt to live with it and when his time had finally come, he could greet his end with a smile on his face, knowing that someday, in another lifetime perhaps, he would be reunited with the other part of his soul. One day, they would have their happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here you go. Another story. I actually really like this one because it's more light-hearted than the previous stories (and nobody died!). It's been a really fun one to write actually so I hope you liked it :) Now we've got only two more stories left (7 is my favourite number after all :)


	39. Period 6 - 2165 AD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the penultimate story. It's set in the near future and told from Villa's POV. I'm not really good with sci-fi so it probably doesn't feel very different from the current day world. But it's a zombie apocalypse. Hope you like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think everyone would have guessed it but Antonio here is Griezmann.

It all started on that fateful Saturday afternoon of 2175 AD, or the doomsday as later generations would refer to it. The day started normal enough. David “Guaje” Tuilla woke up early in the morning to go visit his parents. He sometimes thought it was a bit of a pain to drive 3.5 hours from Madrid to see his parents every other week but his father insisted that they stay close even after Guaje moved away for work. In reality, Guaje made the effort more for his dad than his father. Even though his dad never asked him anything, Guaje knew that he was always the softer and more sensitive of the two and he would be secretly sad if Guaje failed to turn up for their family get-together.

 

As Guaje was driving, his thoughts again wandered to his parents. He knew he came from a unique family, a fact he was extremely proud of. Both of his parents used to be professional footballers. Neither made it to La Liga level but they were decent enough to make a profession out of it until they had decided to come out as a couple. Despite the effort of the Society for the Just Treatment of Gay Sportsmen, there were still people out there with a grudge against gay footballers. Both of them lost their positions on the team and were left to fend for themselves. But thanks to the Society, founded by the Atlético legend Jorge Resurrección, professionally known as Koke, both of his parents managed to find jobs. His father Manuel, the more gifted player, transferred to Unión Popular de Langreo, while his dad José secured a job with the Society’s Asturias branch in Oviedo.

 

After they had settled in Oviedo, they started planning a family. A child of their own was out of the question since both of them were men and not rich enough to afford a surrogate mother. Given José’s soft and affectionate nature, they had decided to adopt. To this day, Guaje still thanked his lucky star for being chosen by his parents. He was by no means the easiest kid nor the most agreeable. His biological parents never wanted him, for reasons he did not know nor care. Growing up in the orphanage, Guaje learnt since a young age to use his aggression and anger to protect himself and survive. But unlike the other kids, he had no desire to conceal his bad temper to fawn over the couples visiting the orphanage to adopt. Perhaps it was his authenticity that made him stand out from the rest and endeared him to his parents. In any case, he was chosen and taken to their small but cosy home outside Oviedo and Guaje never looked back. He grew up there until he left home to go to university in Valencia. A year later, his parents followed him there to retire in coastal Valencia. If it were up to him, Guaje never wanted to leave Valencia. But his job had required him to relocate to Madrid, which had almost broken his dad’s tender heart.

 

“Father, dad, I’m home,” Guaje called out as he stepped into his parent’s beach home. Seconds later, two older men came to greet him, the smaller of the two practically rushing to hug him.

 

“Oh, my dear,” cried José as he pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead while Manuel stood next to him, smiling at his husband and son, “It’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.”

 

“It’s only been a couple weeks, dad,” said Guaje feeling a little embarrassed. He was, after all, a 30-year-old man with his own job and house.

 

“But it feels longer,” insisted José, “Come on in, I’ve made lunch.”

 

Lunch was delicious as usual. Guaje was too starved after his long drive to spare any moment for talking. His parents did not seem to mind though. If anything, José was pleased to see his son tuck in to his food with great enthusiasm. Like any parent, José always thought Guaje was not taking proper care of himself and looked underfed. After lunch, however, his parents decided to catch up with him properly and grill him on his personal life.

 

“So have you met anyone special yet?” asked José with hopes in his voice and Guaje sighed. Ever since his 25th birthday, his parents, or rather his dad, had been asking him the same question at increasingly shorter intervals. As much as he hated to disappoint his dad, Guaje had not found the one of his dream. He sometimes felt that there was someone meant for him out there and he just hadn’t met him yet.

 

“You really ought to take this more seriously,” said Manuel and Guaje’s eyes widened. If his usually quiet father decided to voice his opinion, it must be important, “I fell in love with your dad when I was only 25, right after I arrived in Spain from Cusco. So maybe all it takes is a change of scenery for you too.”

 

Perhaps his father was right, except he had no plan to travel somewhere just to find someone for him who might or might not exist. He liked his home comfort and would rather stay somewhere close to his parents. Besides, Madrid was big enough that he was bound to find someone. No, Guaje told himself, he would not leave. What happened next, however, made him realise just how fickle fate was.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It arrived at 4 pm that afternoon. Everyone in Europe saw it, a flashing light so bright that it could be seen in the daylight, streaking across the sky until it landed somewhere. Nobody gave it too much thought at the time though. Guaje, like everyone else, thought it must be some kind of meteoroid from the sky. Since it didn’t seem to land anywhere near him, Guaje pushed it out of his mind and went on his business as usual.

 

The news of the mysterious fallen object did not appear until the day after. After Guaje woke up in his old bedroom, he went downstairs for breakfast, only to find his parents engrossed in the morning news. The mysterious rock had apparently landed somewhere in the Western Alps, where the French and Italian authorities had sent teams in to investigate.

 

“That’s quite lucky, isn’t it?” asked his father, “If it hit a populated area, it could be a lot worse.”

 

Guaje shrugged and pushed the matter out of his mind. He had to leave for Madrid that evening so he would rather spend time with his parents. Tucking into the hearty breakfast his dad made, Guaje engaged his dad in conversations about everything and nothing.  

 

When Guaje arrived in the office the next day, everyone seemed to be talking about the meteorite, which was quite surprising as Guaje worked in the IT department of an energy company. Even his best friend in the company, Jorge Merodio, appeared interested in the matter.

 

“What’s the fuss about a small rock?” asked Guaje grumpily during lunch and Jorge smiled indulgently, which he was used to doing around Guaje. This used to drive Guaje absolutely insane, for Jorge was much younger than he was and yet he felt Jorge acted like an indulgent parent to a grumpy teenager in front of him. But still, Jorge was his best friend, mostly because he was the only one who was not afraid of Guaje’s temper. So Guaje forgave him for his small shortcomings.

 

“You have to admit it’s not every day that we see a meteorite this big,” replied Jorge, their top energy expert of the company. Even though he was only 23 and out of university only 2 years ago, he was the star in the R&D department for Jorge was a prodigy. “Antonio phoned me last night and he was positively thrilled.”

 

“They sent Antonio there?” Guaje was not really surprised. Antonio was Jorge’s friend from university and even more of a prodigy than Jorge. He was only 21 years old but graduated at the same time as Jorge, with two degrees no less, maths and astrophysics. Guaje had met the young Frenchman several times, usually when he came to visit Jorge in Madrid, and he liked Antonio. Despite his superior intelligence, the Frenchman was humble and cheerful, which endeared him to almost everyone he had met.

 

“Yeah, he is one of their best researchers after all,” shrugged Jorge, “From what he told me, it sounded like the thing that fell is made of metals unknown to earth.”

 

Now that was quite interesting, thought Guaje, except he was not a geologist or chemist. His only interests were cybersecurity and football. Changing the subject, he started talking to Jorge about the recent Madrid derby, which had successfully diverted his friend’s attention to the more pleasant topic.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

A week later, the hype around the mysterious extraterrestrial object had almost died down. After all, the scientific data of a piece of metal was hardly as exciting as the juicy gossip of some celebrities that gained fame for reasons nobody could understand. Guaje spent the weekend with Jorge, who had recently split up with his girlfriend. Somehow Guaje had managed to persuade his usually uptight friend to go clubbing with him both Friday and Saturday nights. Jorge hadn’t been out on the pull for such a long time that his failed attempts turned out to be quite entertaining. Needless to say, Guaje managed to pull some random blokes both nights. He never had any problems in that area. Somehow people found his soul patch and foul temper sexy and irresistible. Once they had sobered up, however, they ran the opposite direction as fast as they could.

 

Still, when Guaje walked into the office, he did not expect to see a worried Jorge in his office. Honestly, thought Guaje, the chap was seriously out of practice for 5 years and he expected to regain his skills overnight?

 

“We have a big problem,” said Jorge without preamble and Guaje raised his eyebrows. Whatever that made the usually polite Jorge forgo formality must be serious. “Antonio phoned me last night.”

 

“Okay…” said Jorge slowly, not really grasping the situation. Jorge looked practically frantic. “What did he say that got you into such a state?”

 

“It’s the metals from outer space. Antonio is very worried.”

 

Guaje frowned. He knew Antonio was not the type to get worked up so easily. In fact, he was ridiculously optimistic that it became annoying sometimes. But he could not understand how this could affect them. “What about it? I mean yeah sure it may be something we’ve never seen before. But honestly is it really worth getting all worked up about it?”

 

“Antonio thinks it contains some kind of virus,” said Jorge bluntly, “A very dangerous kind of virus.”

 

Now that got Guaje’s attention, “What kind of virus?”

 

Jorge hesitated before blurting out the answer as if he could not believe what he was saying, “The kind that turns people into zombies.”

 

Given the circumstances and the worried looks on Jorge’s face, the laughter that burst out of Guaje might not be the most appropriate thing in the world. But Guaje simply could not help himself. Zombies?! How ridiculous! Zombies only existed in video games and films, not real life. It was simply not biologically possible.

 

“Damn it, Guaje,” snapped Jorge angrily, which shut Guaje up. He knew Jorge’s sense of humour ranged from weird to non-existent. But it did not seem like Jorge was joking. More importantly, he knew that both Jorge and Antonio were too clever to be fooled by some ridiculous doomsday theory. Yet it was so hard to believe. “How is it po…”

 

“The virus attacks the central nervous system,” replied Jorge quickly, “in particular the brain. The motor cortex is the least affected area, allowing the body to still move around and perform basic motor functions, although with a much-delayed response due to the damage to the thalamus. Somatosensory cortex is completely damaged, which means they cannot feel pain or heat, or anything like that. The visual cortex is somewhat affected but not by much. The auditory cortex is modified so hearing is actually enhanced. Broca’s and Wernicke’s areas are of course damaged so don’t even try to talk to them. It’s not going to work. All the organs are shut down so they’re dead and thus can’t be killed unless you destroy the virus at its source, the brain.”

 

Guaje blinked. This was way more neuroscience knowledge than he needed. “Okay, to summarise, basically we have a zombie…”

 

Jorge looked slightly annoyed, “Look, you’re the one who won’t believe it. So I’m just trying to tell you how this is scientifically possible.”

 

Putting up a placating hand, Guaje continued his questioning with a little more tact, “But even if it’s scientifically possible, how can Antonio be sure that…”

 

“One of the astrophysicists sent there caught the virus,” said Jorge clearly. He threaded through his hair in frustration, “A pathologist was sent to the site to investigate but he was infected too. Apparently, a simple scratch or a droplet of saliva can infect you and there’s no stopping it. The symptoms don’t show up until a couple days later. Patient zero died 5 days after he was infected and resurrected 2 hours after his death. He’s been attacking people since then. They have him under control now and everyone who has been attacked by him after his death has been quarantined. Not those who came in contact with patient zero before his death though. Some have already gone home. They only found out the cause last night and Antonio managed to ring me. He’s really scared that this would get out of control.”

 

Utterly speechless, Guaje pinched himself on the thigh, hard. It hurt like hell so this must be real. But how could it be? This was just too impossible. Were they facing a zombie apocalypse?

 

When Guaje did not say anything, Jorge prompted him again, “What do you think? What do we do?”

 

To be honest, Guaje had no idea. He managed to pull himself together though, “Right. Let’s just assume Antonio’s information is correct and this really will get out of control, we need to prepare ourselves,” He tried hard to think about the survival tips he’d come across in some random forums, “We need to buy as much stuff as we need, food, medicine, weapons, anything we can get hold of before everybody knows and starts to panic.”

 

The grip of Jorge’s hand on his arm was getting really painful but Guaje did not have the heart to tell the youngster to let go, for he looked like a drowning man holding on for dear life. Jorge had never looked so frightened, “Is this really happening?”

 

Sighing heavily, Guaje patted Jorge on the back, “I hope not. But it doesn’t hurt to take some precaution, does it? Why don’t we take some time off to get ready for the end of the world?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I had to throw in some neuroscience explanations here (okay I'm actually not sorry lol). I think it's the best explanation I can think of in terms of zombie physiology.


	40. Period 6 - 2165 AD

Thanks to the unlimited time off policy and the laid-back culture of their company, Guaje and Jorge managed to get three weeks off on such a short notice. Guaje had decided that Jorge should move in with him to his place for the time being so they could take care of each other. His place was a large three bedroom townhouse so they had enough room for everything. The next several days were spent buying things and fortifying their townhouse.

 

“Do we really need a Jeep for this?” asked Jorge as he looked at his bank account with sadness. Guaje snorted. He knew Jorge. He was the most traditional family man one could find, never spending money on anything extravagant unless it was for his girlfriend, always saving to buy a house. “We need the mobility. If this really turns out to be a pandemic, the only way out would be to some human establishment base, maybe even an island. How can we get there without a durable car?”

 

“You seemed to know a lot about it,” said Jorge and Guaje shrugged, “I’ve read about things like this in some random books and websites. Unlike you, who spend all your spare time reading about work-related stuff, I do have some hobbies.”

 

During that week, no official news had been released regarding the virus. Antonio had not been in contact either, which made Jorge nervous. Guaje had been monitoring the different forums and social media to see if there had been any discussion regarding the topic. Every now and then, some random posts would pop up but they were usually buried under the millions of other ones about more interesting things. Still, Guaje could not help but notice that the frequency of such posts seemed to be increasing. 

 

Apart from his parents, Guaje had not shared this piece of information with anyone. His dad, of course, did not want to believe it. “How could such a thing happen?” he asked incredulously, “And even if it does, surely the authority will get it under control. I don’t think we need to worry about it.” Luckily, his father was more practical and decided to take at least some precautions. Guaje debated if he should meet his parents in Valencia or ask them to come to Madrid. If anything did happen, he’d like to be with his family until the end.

 

“Who else have you told?” asked Jorge one day during dinner and Guaje shrugged. He was never one to act like a saviour. There were only a handful of people he really cared about and he planned to keep it that way. Zombie apocalypse was hardly the best time for making new friends. Jorge, of course, told as many people as he could. He was the one with tons of friends due to his kind and dependable nature. “If this really does happen, do you think we should let more people in…”

 

“Absolutely not!” cried Guaje without any hesitation. He ignored the scandalised look on Jorge’s face and continued, “If this does happen, resources will be extremely tight. We may not even have enough for the two of us. Who knows how long it will last. I’m not going to let someone in just because they have nowhere else to go. Besides, what if they’re infected?”

 

“But we can’t just leave them out there,” cried Jorge, “They may be able to help us in some way. Who knows what kind of skills we need if we want to survive! And why would they come to us if they’re already infected? They’re doomed anyway.”

 

“You may be brilliant with books,” sighed Guaje darkly, “But you know nothing about human nature. Nobody wants to die. They will always harbour some hope, no matter how impossibly slim it is, that they can be saved somehow. Logic doesn’t work here. It’s all driven by the desire to survive. And I’m telling you, people will do whatever it takes to survive. I’ve seen it way too many times when I was in that orphanage.”

 

The look on Jorge’s face could only be described as compassionate. “I know how traumatising it must have been. But I can’t believe everyone will act like that, even in difficult situations. I can never forgive myself if I let some innocent people out there die when I can prevent it.”

 

Sighing heavily, Guaje knew he could not persuade Jorge. All he needed was to face reality when it came, thought Guaje gloomily, and hopefully, the price he had to pay would not be too high.

 

The first hint of the virus break out came Friday night. In the evening news, the reporter, a serious-looking middle-aged man with a dull voice announced that Spain had declared martial law in all major cities while all forms of transportations were banned. Roadblocks had been set up while trains, buses, and flights were cancelled. Guaje exchanged a grave look with Jorge, this was really happening.

 

While Jorge went to phone his family in Mallorca and Antonio, Guaje dialled the number of his father’s mobile. 

 

“Have you seen the news?” asked Guaje in lieu of a greeting.

 

“Yes,” sighed his father, “Everyone’s talking about it. Your dad’s really not dealing with it well.”

 

“Is he okay?” asked Guaje in an urgent tone. He always felt more protective of his dad than anyone else.

 

“He’s fine. He just…” Manuel hesitated, “he doesn’t want to believe it. I mean I don’t want to believe it but I have to because I need to protect José. But he’s having a real hard time to come to terms with what’s happening,” he paused, pondering over his next words, “Do you think it will really get out of control?”

 

For the first time in his life, Guaje felt the heavy burden on his shoulder. He had always looked up to his father, who had been so strong and dependable that his mere presence brought calm and order to Guaje and his dad’s life. Manuel was always a fighter, shielding his family from harm. But now, at this very moment, Guaje realised that his father was scared, that he wasn’t the young Peruvian immigrant with such a big heart that he could conquer the world anymore. His father was old and he needed Guaje’s help.

 

“It will be fine,” said Guaje with such determination in his voice that he almost convinced himself too, “I will never let any harm come to you. I will find a way to Valencia and I will come to get you both to safety. You just take care of dad and stay safe. Leave everything else to me.”

 

Hanging up the call, Guaje walked next to Jorge, who was still talking to Antonio and said in a loud voice with the finality that brooked no argument nor refusal, “It’s been decided. We’re going to my parents’ house in Valencia.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It didn’t take that long to prepare for their journey thanks to all the precautions they’d taken before. The problems, of course, were the travel restrictions and the enforced martial law. So far, the government still seemed to be in control and Guaje had no wish to challenge that only to get themselves arrested and locked up in prison. So they waited. The government still hadn’t released any new updates on the nature of the crisis but speculations were widespread. Theories ranged from impending nuclear war to deadly infectious diseases, which ironically wasn’t that far from the truth. 

 

All the supermarkets were packed with people trying to get their hands on as many supplies as they could. Guaje still went there every day to get provisions, for he hated to live off their stock when they could still buy things. He did, however, take extra precaution not to come in contact with anyone. This wasn’t easy, as people were getting irritated and scared, which led to much shorter temper. But thanks to his instinct honed when he was an orphan, Guaje had managed to navigate through the various situations with relative ease.

 

Things really started to go downhill a couple weeks later. The first to go was the internet, soon followed by mobiles and regular phones (not that anyone used them anymore). Nothing useful was being televised. It seemed like the government was determined to keep up the morale by telling everyone the situation was under control, even though it clearly was anything but. Unfortunately, with the internet gone, people had very few options to get information other than the official channels. Even that did not last, as television signals were soon reduced to a couple channels with repetitive information telling everyone to stay at home and remain calm.

 

Accompanying the loss of communication, the situation in Madrid quickly deteriorated. Guaje stopped leaving their townhouse as it was too chaotic and dangerous on the street. Robbery, looting, and burglaries were happening on a daily basis. Their house was not in danger though, as Guaje had bulletproofed the entire place. The worst part of the whole ordeal for Guaje was his concern for his parents. 

 

Before the loss of communication, Guaje had been talking to his parents every single day, checking with them to make sure they were doing fine with enough food and a safe environment. He could tell his dad was feeling down, which worried his father greatly. He had tried his best to cheer his dad up, promising to go find them the moment the travel restrictions were lifted and stay with them for as long as they want. But he knew his dad. José was always a soft and affectionate man who only wanted to see the best in people and situation. What was worse, he had not been able to get in contact with his parents since the communication blackout and he could not even imagine how worried sick his dad must be.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first zombie appeared outside their house a week after the communication blackout. Neither Guaje nor Jorge was prepared to see their neighbour Señor Pérez, a rich architect, walking slowly and robotically in the neighbourhood, eyes dull and vacant, body decaying, and mouth tainted with blood.

 

“Heaven forbid!” cried Jorge, taking several steps back from the windows, “It’s… it’s… Oh, my Lord!”

 

Guaje could hardly blame his friend. Señor Pérez, though never a particularly attractive or kind man, looked absolutely deplorable and downright scary. “It’s alright, Jorge, just get away from the…”

 

His words were cut off by Jorge’s scream. As some unfortunate drunkard appeared out of a neighbouring house, which was not such a rare occurrence these days as some people preferred to use substances to dull their sense of dread and doom, Señor Pérez came to life. Moving much faster than his previous state, he lunged at the poor man and went straight for the throat. The scream of the man was so blood-curdling that Guaje winced. Grabbing Jorge by the waist, he yanked the youngster backwards. “Don’t look, Jorge, just don’t look. This is not going to happen to us. Come on, let’s get upstairs.”

 

It took Guaje a while to calm Jorge down, as the young man was shaking nonstop from head to toe. Once he had finally managed to tuck Jorge in, Guaje went downstairs to open his saved bottle of single malt whiskey to calm his own nerves. Seeing that they could all be killed soon, Guaje felt completely justified to indulge himself a bit.

 

The alcohol did its job and Guaje was able to think more clearly. He had a feeling that it was finally time to move. Turning on the radio, as the television was pretty much useless these days, Guaje listened carefully to different stations. It sounded like the government had lost control of the situation. Riots and chaos were reported all over the country, accompanied by more and more zombie sightings. The general populace, it seemed, had finally woken up to the dire situation they were facing and had decided to take matters into their own hands.

 

“We’re moving first thing tomorrow morning,” said Guaje calmly when Jorge finally turned up a couple hours later, looking haunted and drained, “I’d suggest we start packing as soon as possible. It will give you something to do.”

 

By the next morning, everything was ready. Jorge still looked exhausted during breakfast but Guaje could hardly fault him. He himself had a hard time falling asleep the previous night, both from nerves for the journey and from the traumatic experience the day before. Pouring strong black coffee for them both, Guaje checked their luggage. Most of their provisions were stored in the augmented boot of their fortified SUV already, enough to last them at least 2 weeks. The items in their suitcases were the more precious and handy ones, including weapons. Touching his Glocks on his belt, Guaje hoped he did not have to use them. He did not give Jorge any weapons yet, apart from a couple sharp daggers, for he was not sure if the young man was in the right mind to handle guns yet.

 

“Are you alright?” asked Guaje with concern. He did not wish to delay their journey any more than necessary but he had to take his friend’s mental state into account. Jorge, unlike him, had grown up in a rather sheltered environment. 

 

“I’m fine,” muttered Jorge in a low voice, “It’s just been a shock is all.” He swallowed with some effort and said with a firmer voice, “I have to be fine. I can’t rely on you for everything. I have to contribute if we want to make it to Valencia.” He hesitated before bracing himself, “We have to make it to Valencia so we can see your parents and then mine in Mallorca. We just have to do it.”

 

Nodding solemnly, Guaje was relieved that Jorge had managed to pull himself together. He had doubted if Jorge would have ever managed that if his reaction to the whole apocalypse was anything to go by. But Jorge did and it was quite a feat, considering the youngster had never faced any real danger nor difficulty before. Now, with his strong and clever friend next to him, Guaje felt for the first time since the ominous news from Antonio that they might actually stand a chance.


	41. Period 6 - 2165 AD

Their first obstacle on the journey was the traffic jam out of Madrid. Everyone, it seemed, wished to get out of the city as quickly as possible. It was probably a wise move, as the dense population in the city could only give rise to a heavier infestation of zombies. The only problem, of course, was that nobody could actually get out. In fact, they had barely moved ten kilometres in the last 4 hours.

 

“This is ridiculous,” snapped Guaje in a bad temper. He was never a patient man and the added sense of dread and danger certainly did not help. “We need to get off the road.”

 

“Do you think the car will handle it?” asked Jorge nervously. A fight had just broken out between two large families and four cars over who should have the right of way. It did not end well. 

 

“It’s an off-road SUV fortified by the best mechanic in Madrid,” said Guaje dryly, “It’s our best bet. The brawl between those idiots ended in bloodshed, which was a sure way to draw all the zombies within 50 miles. God knows how many there will be. If we don’t move now, we’ll be caught up in this massacre.”

 

Thanks to their foresight, their SUV managed to navigate the rough terrain off the main highway. Guaje drove with a firm hand while Jorge stood guard in the passenger seat, pistol in hand, ready to fire at any moment. Once they had put a safe distance between themselves and the traffic queues, both of them relaxed a bit. Looking back towards the highway, Guaje blanched. As he had predicted, the fighting had brought enough unwelcome guests. No voice from the distance could be heard over the loud noise of the engine, but Guaje could imagine what was going on with all the screaming and crying.

 

“Can we please go?” said Jorge in a low whisper, his face white as paper. Guaje could hardly blame him and he drove on, trying to ignore the massacre they had left behind.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Setting up camp in the middle of an abandoned field that night, Guaje took first watch while Jorge slept in the backseats of the car. Taking the rifle out of their suitcase, Guaje started pacing around, both to keep watch in all directions and to keep himself warm. If he was honest with himself, he was nervous. Zombies did not like sunlight, which limited their activity levels during the day. After dark, however, they became much faster and thus much more lethal than they already were.

 

The first couple hours were easy. Guaje was still relatively alert from his evening coffee, a luxury these days, and the night wasn’t that dead yet. After midnight, however, it was harder to stay awake. Pinching himself repeatedly, Guaje tried very hard not to nod off. For the first time since he started planning, he regretted not recruiting a couple more like Jorge suggested. Sure, it would require more resources, but it would also mean more hands to fight and take watch. But nothing could be done at this point so Guaje just willed himself to stay awake.

 

The first zombie almost snuck up on them unnoticed. Guaje was dozing off and only jerked awake with less than twenty metres between him a zombie. Reaching for his gun as fast as he could, Guaje managed to fire a shot at the zombie, missing the head completely. The force of the bullet only stopped the zombie momentarily before it kept marching on, albeit quite slowly. Collecting himself, Guaje fired again, this time getting the head and killing the zombie.

 

“What the hell, Guaje?” cried Jorge as he stumbled out of the car, a shotgun in hand though he was shaking slightly. Not wishing for Jorge to hurt himself accidentally, Guaje quickly responded, “Everything’s fine. Please put the gun down.” 

 

The zombie that tried to attack them used to be an elder lady, which possibly explained her slower speed. Guaje was extremely grateful, for he did not think they would have survived otherwise.

 

“Bloody hell!” yelled Jorge when he saw the body lying on the ground and he quite literally jumped into the air, “Is that…?

 

“Of course it is,” snapped Guaje, “Do you think I would have killed a real old lady?” He supposed he could have been a bit more patient with Jorge, but the shock of being so close to death and his first kill, whether it was a zombie or not, still shook him to the core.

 

“Right,” muttered Jorge and he walked cautiously closer, “You got her head. That’s what killed her.”

 

Guaje did not say anything. He tried to push this matter to the back of his mind. It was just a zombie, not a human, he kept telling himself, I did not murder anyone.

 

“What should we do with her?” asked Jorge, looking uncertain. “I mean, she’s been dead for a while so it can’t be hygienic to be near her, can it? But I really don’t want to touch her.”

 

That was a good point. Guaje did not understand the mechanism of zombies enough to know how dangerous their dead body was. But getting away from the scene of his first kill seemed like a reasonable idea to him. So they packed up their tent and drove on for an hour before stopping to set up camp again.

 

“I should take the watch,” insisted Jorge, “You’ve done enough for one night. Go get some rest.” The looks in his eyes were absolutely sincere. “I’m really grateful that you had killed her. I would have been dead otherwise. You did the right thing, the courageous thing. I’ll try my best to do the same.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

As their journey continued, they had encountered more and more zombies. Thanks to Guaje’s knowledge of the area and their ample supplies, they managed to avoid the populated areas so they had not encountered more than five at a time. Jorge had his first kill three days into the journey and it took him one whole day to fully function again. 

 

The situation elsewhere, on the other hand, was deteriorating really fast. Their only source of information was the radio station, which had miraculously stayed alive all this time. From their report, however, it seemed like most of the major cities in Spain and France were compromised. Government officials, royal family members, and the military had been evacuated, leaving the cities practically abandoned to the zombies. Given the densely populated nature of the cities, they became natural incubators for zombies.

 

“The pandemic has spread to virtually all parts of the globe,” said a female host of the radio station, “Governments of all around the world are looking into finding safe havens for people to live in while they work out a permanent solution. Islands are being scouted and cleansed of zombies so people can be evacuated there. The exact nature of such operations, however, remains classified and not known to the general public. Whether and when they will be made available to regular citizens is another question…”

 

“So maybe Mallorca is being cleansed right now,” said Jorge, sounding excited for the first time since their journey. Guaje knew how he felt. He knew Jorge only went on this journey with him because he was a good friend and Guaje needed to go see his parents. Otherwise, Jorge would have preferred to stay in their fortified Madrid house to wait this out. Guaje sometimes wondered if Jorge thought this whole trip was a suicidal one but came anyway because he wanted to help Guaje. Jorge was just loyal like that. But now, knowing that they were getting closer to the island that could be a safe haven and the island where his parents were, Jorge finally allowed himself to hope.

 

“I hope so,” said Guaje, sharpening the machete. Their bullets supplies were still reasonable but they were only halfway through, the constant need to take detours and drive slowly to eliminate noise made the journey much longer than normal, not to mention the more and more frequent battles with zombies. Guaje sincerely hoped they would not have to engage in a close-range combat with zombies using cold weapons. “It makes sense because Mallorca is big enough to house more people. I just don’t know how long it will take to make it completely zombie free and whether we will be allowed in or not.”

 

“We have to find a way in,” Jorge sounded absolutely convinced. “We will sneak in if we have to. I just can’t stand waiting outside when your goal is so close.”

 

“It will be hard for us to sneak in,” reasoned Guaje, “I bet they’ll cut off all authorised forms of transportation into the island.” 

 

“But we can’t be the only ones who want to get in,” argued Jorge, “There will be loads of other people in the same boat. Maybe if we form a group, we’d stand a better chance.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Guaje said patiently, “What are we going to do then? Fight our way in? First of all, we don’t have the means to do that. Not to mention a war is exactly what we all need right now. Besides, the bigger the group, the less likely they will accept us. They can’t have all these people swarming the island. Best case scenario, they fend us off and we don’t go anywhere, that is if we make it out alive. Worst case scenario. the mob storms the island, breaking all its defence mechanism and thus bringing all the zombies in.”

 

Jorge was silent. Guaje really hated to do this but they needed to be realistic. He would hate for Jorge to get his hopes up high only to be brought back to reality in the end. He doubted that Jorge could survive that.

 

“Maybe you’re right,” said Jorge slowly, “But I will find a way. I don’t care how but I will. I will go find my parents one way or the other.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After another 3 days of driving, they had finally reached the outskirt of Valencia. This, however, was not a reason for celebration.

 

“Now that we’re about to enter the city,” said Guaje over coffee that morning, “we’ll likely encounter a lot more zombies. Luckily my parents don’t live in the city centre but still. We have to cross some neighbourhoods and I honestly don’t know what to expect.”

 

It was nothing like what they expected. When they drove into the first neighbourhood by the beach, they could see that the whole place was occupied by zombies. They could see zombies walking slowly in their dormant state everywhere. Most of the houses looked not only abandoned but also completely trashed, with doors and windows broken and blood splattered on the walls. Once the zombies spotted them, however, they all woke up and started moving towards them much more quickly.

 

“Shit,” cursed Jorge, who was driving, “there’re too many of them.”

 

“Just step on the accelerator and drive through.” Guaje cocked his guns and readied himself. But he knew that if they were stopped, there was no way out. Jorge next to him seemed to be of the same opinion as he sped up while manoeuvring the car around the zombies as much as possible. It was not an easy job since there were simply too many of them. But Jorge did manage to dodge quite a few, minimising the impact of the zombies with their car.

 

Yet still, zombies after zombies came towards them, ramming into their car without a care in the world. Their car was swung from side to side but Jorge had managed to stay in control of the car. The ones in the front were harder to deal with. Some had rolled off the top of their car while others had managed to stay on to keep banging on their windscreen. 

 

“We need to get them off otherwise the windscreen would not hold,” shouted Guaje over the din.

 

“How?!” Jorge yelled back.

 

“Slam on the brake! See if that works.” 

 

It didn’t, not entirely. While the sudden stop shook off a lot of the zombies, a couple of those closest to them clung on. Once they started driving again, the zombies resumed their pounding on the windscreen.

 

“What now?” cried Jorge and frankly Guaje had no idea. They were already swinging quite violently from side to side and any more movement could give them a rollover. They could not open the window to fire and kill zombies, as it would just expose themselves to more danger. Their only option it seemed, was to drive on and hope for the best, which was easier said than done. 

 

Just when they thought the two zombies on their windscreen would never give up, one of them suddenly stopped. A fraction of a second later, blood and brains splashed on their windscreen as the zombie fell off. Someone had shot the zombie in the head for them. 


	42. Period 6 - 2165 AD

Another bullet hit the other zombie in the head, killing it on the spot. This time, Guaje was able to see where it came from.

 

The house on their right was perhaps the only one not broken in by the zombies, not from lack of trying though. Guaje had no idea how it managed to withstand the undoubtedly repeated attacks but it must be heavily reinforced. 

 

“Where’s our saviour?” shouted Jorge.

 

“The white house on the right with intact doors and windows,” Guaje yelled back, “Why?”

 

Without a word, Jorge turned the car sharply right, shaking off some zombies along the way, and turned into the driveway.

 

“Are you fucking mental?” shrieked Guaje, “We are not going to…”

 

At that moment, the garage door opened and Jorge drove in as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, some zombies were fast enough to follow them into the garage.

 

Before any of them could do anything though, the door to the house opened and a petite young man turned up with two pistols in hands. With five clean shots to the head, he killed off all the zombies in the garage within seconds. 

 

“Come in quickly,” said the young man with a slight Canarian accent, “It’s going to get dark soon. The garage door is not as strong as the others and I don’t want to tempt the zombies any further.”

 

“You were amazing out there,” exclaimed Jorge in awe, which was understandable since their host looked incredibly young, quiet, and almost fragile. Their host smiled at Jorge and introduced himself as David. There was something quite inexplicably intriguing about David that Guaje could not exactly put his finger on. Maybe it was his exotic looks, with his enchanting dark eyes, soft fringe, and a mole on his chin, or maybe it was his smile, so peaceful in such a chaotic time. Either way, Guaje found himself drawn to this mysterious David like a moth to a flame.

 

“Are you hungry?” asked David, “I’m about to cook dinner and you’re more than welcome to join me.”

 

For someone who had been drinking liquid nutrient packs for the past couple weeks, the warm cooked lunch was heaven-sent. Guaje tried not to gorge on the food, for he knew how precious any supplies could be at this point. David, however, did not seem to mind. If anything, he seemed very pleased to have some company.

 

“How have you managed to survive this long by yourself?” asked Jorge after they had finished their lunch, “The rest of neighbourhood had all been broken in.”

 

“I paid attention,” said David matter-of-factly, “My parents had always been very cautious and they had the house burglar and hurricane-proved before. Once I heard words about the extraterrestrial virus, I took measures to enforce it even further. My dad was a policeman before he retired so I grew up practising shooting. I never thought I’d have to use this particular skill one day.”

 

“What’s your plan long term?” Guaje could not help but wonder. It might be possible for David to hold out for quite a while but it was not going to be indefinite. His resources would run out. Usually, he couldn't care less what happened to a stranger, even though the stranger had just helped them. But somehow Guaje really did not like the thought of David being destroyed by zombies or die from starvation or dehydration.

 

Those incredibly dark eyes locked with Guaje’s as if trying to pierce into his soul. He seemed satisfied with what he’d seen and David smiled, “I’ve heard a rumour.”

 

“What rumour?” Jorge was always too eager and impatient. Guaje made a mental note to talk to his young friend about it. This could be deadly in a negotiation.

 

“The rumour that a survival group is on their way from Madrid to Valencia and their plan is to sail to Mallorca. It’s been said that the leader of the group, Colonel González, has some connections that will get the group across to safety.”

 

Exchanging a hopeful look between each other, Guaje and Jorge both perked up. Even if the tip-off was just rumour, Guaje somehow did not think David was the type to divulge such information unless he believed in the validity behind it. 

 

“We must find this Colonel,” said Jorge with such enthusiasm and joy that Guaje almost smiled. It felt as if his old friend was back. “We’ll need to persuade him to take us in but I know he will. I’m an energy engineer. I know how to make the best solar battery and how to most efficiently compress hydrogen. Whatever this Colonel plans to do, he needs fuels and energy. We’re going to go see Guaje’s parents first though. They lived in a house close to the port so it’s really along the way.” He gave Guaje a hesitant look before turning to David, “Would you like to join us? I’m sure three is better than two.”

 

If Jorge had been concerned about Guaje’s reluctance to take on any other passengers, he needed not have worried. Guaje was, if anything, even more eager to get David out of this though safe but still very isolated house. He also agreed with Jorge that with David’s skills and the fact that he was a local who knew the area more than both of them, his addition would prove extremely valuable. The truth of the matter though was that even if David was a scared young man who knew nothing, Guaje might still have taken him. There was just something about him that called to Guaje’s soul.

 

With that matter settled, they soon started preparing for their journey. Rolling out a large map, David spent the next two hours explaining a route he had charted out that would allow them to get to Guaje’s parents with minimal human and thus zombie encounter. He had even marked potential safe hiding places along the way. This plan gave Guaje a little bit more confidence since David clearly knew what he was doing. The most difficult part, however, was getting out of their neighbourhood.

 

“We should wait until midday tomorrow to leave when the sun is brightest,” said David, “Hopefully that’ll slow the zombies down a bit. Go through this map tonight to memorise it. After that, get a good night’s sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Guaje woke up the next day, he could already smell the delicious porridge cooking in the kitchen. This was such a luxury that he closed his eyes for a second, basking in the warm morning sun and the tantalising smell of food. He did eventually have to get up though and was greeted with the smile of David bustling in the kitchen.

 

“Morning,” greeted the young man brightly, “I hope you’ve had a good night’s sleep. I’m trying to cook as much food as possible so we could take them with me. I’ve already had breakfast so tuck in.”

 

Jorge wondered in a couple minutes later and made an almost obscenely pleased noise when he sat down in front of his bowl of porridge with fruit toppings. They ate in silence, both too absorbed in the heavenly food to use their mouth for anything else.

 

“You’re such a good cook,” sighed Jorge, “This is the best porridge I’ve ever had in ages, even before this whole mess. It’s just amazing! And the mangos, where on earth did you get them?”

 

“Thanks,” smiled David, “I actually got them from my garden. I’m a botanist you see. Plant and gardening have always been a passion of mine,” he looked a bit sheepish, “I guess I just like food. But I started growing my own garden since I was a kid and got a degree in Plant Sciences at Uni. I honestly never thought it would come in handy in a zombie apocalypse though.” The shy smile and his slightly pink face made him look so adorable that Guaje felt his heart skip a beat. How could someone this amazing (excellent with guns, clever with planning, and downright magical with food) be this humble and down-to-earth?

 

“This is brilliant,” exclaimed Jorge, his grin growing even wider, “Your skill will be so helpful in this shithole we’re in. I thought my skills are useful enough but it’s not like yours. I still need machines to do my job but all you need is some soil.”

 

Now that he came to think of it, Guaje felt that his occupation and the skill sets he possessed were the most useless of them all. He doubted anyone would have the time or energy to hack into a computer system, not that there were many left anyway. But he agreed with Jorge. David could be their ticket to this Colonel’s ship, figuratively and literally speaking.

 

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Jorge in a low voice after breakfast. David was off to harvest more fresh produce from his garden while the other two started loading more provisions from David’s house to their car, “You’ve barely said a word since yesterday.”

 

Guaje grunted. He knew he was not the warmest nor the most loquacious person but even he knew he was unusually quiet. “I’ve got a lot on my mind,” muttered Guaje, “Unless you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a bloody zombie apocalypse. I’m a bit preoccupied with staying clear off those buggers out there.”

 

The look on Jorge’s face was unusually shrewd, “Hmm, that might be the case. Or, you’re just besotted with our lovely host.”

 

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” snapped Guaje, “Of course I’m not.”

 

“You kept staring at him, looking like a concussed duck,” Jorge deadpanned.

 

“No, I do not!” Guaje was indignant. This was rich coming from Jorge, who practically drooled over Beatriz, their coworker in the marketing department. “I just think he’s a very clever and resourceful person who has managed to survive this long all by himself. I respect that. Not to mention the fact that he saved our lives yesterday.”

 

That unfortunately only deepened the smirk on Jorge’s face. Guaje, of course, knew what his friend was thinking about. It was so rare and uncharacteristic for Guaje to compliment anyone that when he did, everyone started to get suspicious. Sometimes Guaje really wondered if he should change his life goals from trying to piss off as many people as possible to something a little more conventional.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

They set out after lunch, their last hot meal for a long time. Jorge was the driver since he was decent with the car but nowhere near as proficient with the guns. David would take over Guaje’s usual seat next to Jorge to help with directions while Guaje was relegated to the back seats. Guaje did not object to the arrangement because he knew the practicality of it, yet he still secretly wished that he could sit somewhere closer to David.

 

“Right,” said David a little nervously once they were settled in the car, “Just keep driving south until we’re out of this neighbourhood. Whatever happens, don’t stop. Okay, let’s go then. Good luck everyone.”

 

So off they went. The moment the garage door opened, they could see zombies started moving towards them. Without a word, Jorge stepped on the accelerator and charged out. It turned out to be slightly better than their trip in, probably because of the sun, but not by much. Zombie after zombies came at them, throwing their bodies at the car. 

 

“Take a right here across the park,” shouted David, “Grasses slow them down.”

 

It did work, as they had managed to shake off all the zombies on their car, but only for a little while. There were just too many of them. Some were even running towards them from the front.

 

“We need to kill some of them before they run into us.” Guaje did not wait for an answer before he opened the sunroof and stood up. With his head out of the car, he could see much clearer and further. All they needed to do was to go past the gate into an abandoned industrial plant. If they could close the gate behind them, they could be safe. Zombies were not known to be good climbers. They simply did not possess the mental capacity to manage such complex moves, let alone think of it as an alternative route.

 

Taking a deep breath, Guaje started firing at the horde in front of them. Thanks to all the practices he had gotten in the trip, his misses became less and less frequent these days. Below him, David had opened up the window to join in the fight. His accuracy was even more alarming, nailing zombie after zombies with his bullets even though he was perched on the window at a weird angle. 

 

Jorge had almost stopped the car completely to allow them to shoot. His foot was still on the accelerator though, ready to go at any moment. The situation seemed to improve though, as more zombies dropped to the ground. 

 

“Let’s go now,” said David once most of the zombies had been killed. He began to lower himself into the car when suddenly his yell of surprise drew Guaje’s attention to him. What he saw made his heart stop. Out of nowhere, a rotten hand was reaching towards David. David recoiled back to the car but not fast enough. The zombie had managed to grab hold of David’s arm and was bringing the arm closer to his mouth. David’s struggle was not enough to stop the zombie. Acting on instinct and adrenaline alone, Guaje picked up the gun and aimed for the zombie’s head, blowing it off a second later. 


	43. Period 6 - 2165 AD

Once they were inside the plant, David jumped off and rushed to close the gate. When Guaje ran to join him, however, the younger man reacted most violently.

 

“Get the f**k away from me!” yelled David as he pulled out his gun to point at Guaje. Stopping dead on his track, Guaje raised his hands in surrender, not wishing to spook David any further. When the young man was certain that Guaje was not getting any closer, he put the gun down and started stripping his jacket off with such vigour that Guaje wished with all his heart that David’s fear was unfounded. Once David had stripped himself bare, he scrutinised his arm multiple times before his tense shoulders finally relaxed. Letting out a long-held breath, Guaje felt such relief that he rushed forward to the younger man and grabbed his arm. David, much calmer this time, simply let him.

 

Thanks to the discarded jacket and the long sleeve shirt David was wearing, his arm was free of any scratches or even bruises. Guaje could not help but trace his fingers lightly on David’s arm, following the freckles on his tanned smooth skin. He felt the arm still for a second before it relaxed again under his touch. He did not look up at David’s face but somehow he knew the young man was smiling most contently.

 

“I really hate to disrupt this cosy moment,” Jorge’s voice had never sounded so annoying before, “But we’re in the middle of a bloody zombie chase so can we please focus here? And get the hell away from that bloody gate!”

 

“Right,” grunted Guaje as he dropped David’s arm reluctantly. His hand suddenly felt so empty without David’s warmth. “Let’s get back to the car. Here, take my jacket.”

 

The glint in David’s eyes was almost mischievous as he deliberately stretched his arms, showing off his topless body, before putting the jacket on. Guaje made an unintelligible grumbling noise while Jorge snorted with laughter. “Gits,” mumbled Guaje, though his mouth curved upwards for perhaps the first time in ages.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It took them another 3 days to reach Guaje’s parents’ house. Guaje suspected it would have been a lot longer had it not been for David. Once they were in the neighbourhood, Guaje had to take a moment to compose himself. The whole area looked absolutely deserted. There were not even zombies around. Shaking with anxiety and fear, Guaje got out of the car to open the door to his parents’ house. 

 

The house was devoid of its usual warmth and happiness. Instead, it was dark and cold. What was worse, it smelt of despair and decay. 

 

“Dad? Father?” Guaje found his shaking voice echoing in the seemingly empty house. Was he too late? Did his parents leave for Mallorca maybe? Were they…

 

“Guaje?” his father’s voice shocked Guaje so much that he stumbled back and stepped on Jorge’s foot. This, however, was nothing compared to the real blow.

 

Manuel stood in the dark hallway, looking at Guaje with hollow lifeless eyes. Guaje could hear the gasp from behind him but he did not care. His eyes were fixed on his father, not willing to believe what he was seeing. Small spots of greenish yellow were appearing in his father’s body. Yet his father seemed to be still mentally stable and functional enough. There was a sign of recognition when his eyes fell on Guaje but the usual warmth was gone. Tears started to roll down Guaje’s cheek before he even realised it himself.

 

“What happened?” asked Guaje in a choked voice, “Where’s dad?”

 

The mention of his dad seemed to jog his father out of his trance state. He turned slowly on his heels and walked towards their bedroom, leaving Guaje to follow him in tense silence. Behind him, both David and Jorge had their guns out. They had clearly surmised that the situation of the house was extremely dangerous.

 

Unfortunately, David and Jorge proved to be right. The moment the door to the master bedroom opened, a loud noise came from the bed. Guaje clapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his cry of surprise, for his dad was strapped in the middle of the bed, thrashing and gurgling while trying to leap at them. His eyes were completely devoid of any human emotions. The only thing left was the hunger for flesh.

 

Shaking uncontrollably, Guaje made to grab his father, only to be stopped by David. This sudden movement caught Manuel’s eyes and he turned to look at David and Guaje. For the first time since entering the house, Guaje felt that his old father was back.

 

“It’s probably wise not to touch me,” said Manuel quietly, “Let’s go back to the living room. I don’t want to agitate your father too much. It will wear him out.”

 

While Jorge and David exchanged an incredulous look, Guaje paid them no attention. He needed to know the truth about what happened.

 

“Your dad was infected a week and a half ago,” replied Manuel in a flat tone, “A boy came to our doorstep more than three weeks ago, pleading for some shelter. He was only 15 years old and…”

 

“Are you sure he was only 15?” asked Jorge with clear urgency in his tone, “I asked Antonio to come meet us here and I know he has a baby face. Was the boy a blond?”

 

“Oh, he was really only 15,” said Manuel with no heat in his voice, “I don’t know about this Antonio but this boy was a brunette. We haven’t met any blond boys. In any case, José did not have the heart to turn him away. You know your dad. He has the heart of gold and I can never refuse him anything. The boy seemed fine at the time so we took him in and let him take your room. Several days later, however, it was clear that the boy was actually infected. He started to show signs and we had to lock him in the room. He turned soon afterwards and we barricaded the room, hoping he would not escape.”

 

“Why didn’t you leave?” cried Guaje, “It’s extremely dangerous to have a zombie in your house! How could you…”

 

“We had nowhere to go,” interrupted Manuel, “Our car would not make it out of the neighbourhood, let alone the city. Our best chance was to wait at home for the government to rescue us. Besides, you said you’d come to meet us. We didn’t want to miss you.”

 

Guaje felt his throat close up. Was he responsible for his parents’ tragedy? Should he have told them not to wait for him? Before his thoughts could get any darker, he felt David’s warm hand on his arm. Composing himself, he gestured to his father to go on.

 

“We managed to hold him off for 3 days. On the fourth day, he broke out of the room. I shot him in the head but not fast enough. He had already got José.”

 

“Oh, father,” whispered Guaje as fresh new tears rolled down his face. He knew how it must feel for his parents, who had loved each other so much that they were willing to do anything for each other.

 

“I had to strap him to the bed after 5 days. I did it because he begged me to. He said he didn’t want to hurt me. But he could never hurt me. I’d do anything for him. But he insisted so I gave in like I always do.”

 

“Then how did you…”

 

“I went to see him every day. How could I not? He’s the love of my life and I can’t just leave him there. He didn’t recognise me a couple days later but that’s okay. I’ll always know him. I still go and 3 days ago, he was struggling so hard I had to put him back to bed. That must be when I became infected too.”

 

In all honesty, Guaje was not surprised to find his father willing to risk his life just to be with his dad. His dad might be the more openly affectionate one, but his father’s love ran much deeper and equally strong. Watching his parents while growing up had certainly made him extremely selective when it came to matters of the heart. He had long wished for the kind of love and mutual understanding his parents had shared. Even now, after being infected and virtually handed a death sentence, his father still seemed content for the mere fact that he would not be separated from his beloved José. 

 

“What are you going to do?” asked Guaje in a low voice even though he knew the answer already. His father smiled, a gesture so similar to his old self that Guaje had to fight back his tears. “I can’t possibly leave José now, can I? I reckon I’ll just stay here with him. I don’t know what his world is like but it must be a lonely one without me by his side.”

 

Not trusting his voice, Guaje simply nodded. There was nothing to be done at this point. Neither of his parents could be saved, nor did they want to. Guaje supposed that the responsible thing to do was to kill them but for once in his life, he wanted to succumb to his emotions. No matter what they had become, they were still his parents, who brought him out of that orphanage and practically gave him a new life filled with laughter and love.

 

Before he could leave though, his father stopped him, “Hang on a second. There’s something I want to give you.”

 

The wait for his father’s return was an uncomfortable one for Guaje. He was keenly aware of the other two’s gaze on him. Jorge looked sympathetic and even though Guaje knew he meant well, he could not stand his friend’s sympathy and perhaps pity at the moment. David, on the other hand, looked almost serene. 

 

“They’ve always got each other,” said David in a quiet voice, “even in this horrific world. No matter how much the outside world changes, their love for each other will stay the same.” He stepped closer to Guaje and picked up his hand. David’s hand was warm and strangely comforting. “This is just the end of this journey, not the end of their story. They will always find each other like they always do.”

 

Guaje was never a religious person, nor did he ever believe in anything remotely spiritual like afterlife and souls. Yet somehow, in that very moment, amongst all the chaos and madness of this world, in his childhood home that reeked the smell of decay and looked nothing the place he remembered, he felt the moment of clarity like he had never done before, all in that pair of deep dark eyes of David. For the first time since the end of the world, Guaje allowed himself to dream, to be brave, and to hope.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When his father returned, he was carrying a heavy bag. Wondering what the bag contained, Guaje made to reach for it before Jorge stopped him.

 

“What?”

 

“Gloves,” said Jorge simply, offering him a pair of gloves from his pocket.

 

“Thanks,” muttered Guaje, feeling grateful that someone was keeping a straight head as he clearly was not. The day had been too emotionally draining for him to keep his guard up. Turning to his father, he asked, “What’s in the bag?”

 

“Some scrolls from Inca times,” replied his father in a dead tone, “It has been passed down in my family for years. Rumour has it that it was forbidden because it was written by the last high priest of the Inca Empire. Our family had been the guardian of these documents for centuries and I had meant to give them to you when I’m about to… Well, now it’s the time it seems.”

 

The bag did contain some ancient-looking scrolls. Guaje picked one up carefully. It was written in a language he did not recognise though.

 

“It was written in Quechua,” said his father at Guaje’s puzzled look, “The language of the Inca Empire. I can’t read it but I’ve been told that it was a book full of wisdom. Keep them safe.”

 

What they could do with a bunch of scrolls written in a language none of them could read in a zombie apocalypse was clearly beyond Guaje. He wondered if the virus had finally invaded his father’s brain. But he was not going to refuse his father this one last favour. After all, it was a rare family heirloom that he would have cherished during a more peaceful time. Nodding at his father, he closed the bag and paused. He did not know what to say, for this was a farewell he had never anticipated. Words had utterly failed him yet he could not express his feelings like he usually did with touches or hugs. Thankfully, his father seemed to understand him.

 

“Don’t worry about us, my love,” his father’s face was calm with even a faint trace of a smile, “I’m with your dad like how it had always meant to end. You go and take care of yourself. Goodbye, my son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This to me was the most heartbreaking chapter to write of this story.


	44. Period 6 - 2165 AD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colonel Pablo Gonzalez: Diego Simeone

For the next week, Guaje talked very little. He could not help but replay his last meeting with his parents again and again in his head, his dad’s dead eyes, his father’s sallow vacant expression. Nightmares started to find him more than usual, which was saying something because almost everyone was plagued with them since the virus breakout. Some nights, when he woke up soaked in cold sweats with dried tears on his face, he wondered if it was better to just give in. He would be with his parents after all.

 

“You’ve got to stop this,” said Jorge one early morning when Guaje had woken them after his night watch, “You do nightly watch and barely sleep at all. It may work for a short time but you’ll crash sooner or later.”

 

“What’s the point of me sleeping anyway,” grunted Guaje. In truth, he was absolutely exhausted and drained but he could not admit it. “I get nightmares and I never sleep well. Might as well make myself useful.”

 

“But that’s not going to work long-term. You have to try to for…”

 

“I can’t help it!” snapped Guaje angrily, his bloodshot eyes honed in on Jorge, “They come to me in my dreams every night, as zombies! Their eyes are dead and they don’t recognise me! Do you have any idea how that feels? My own parents, turned into monsters and not knowing their only son! Don’t you dare tell me to forget and move on!”

 

A small hand placed on his back stopped his outburst. Turning around, Guaje saw David’s eyes, filled with understanding and concern. Almost instantly, he felt bad about his tantrum. Jorge was only trying to help and he was right, he was not holding it together. Thankfully, David did not mention his little outburst. Instead, he simply said, “Why don’t you sleep in the backseat while we drive? The sun is out and it may help. We’re close to the port but you should be able to catch a couple hours of sleep.”

 

Feeling slightly embarrassed but more overwhelmingly desperate, Guaje asked in a small voice, “Will you stay with me?”

 

Instead of making fun of Guaje, David simple broke into a beautiful smile, “Of course. I will stay with you, always.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The sleep on the back seat was heaven-sent. David stayed with him and his sleep position, which started innocently enough with his head on David’s shoulder, soon turned into something a little more intimate, where his head migrated to David’s laps. Surprisingly, the nightmare did not find him. He still dreamt his parents, but they were not zombies. Rather, they were their old loving selves. In his dream, his dad met David and Jorge too and loved them both. It was as if none of the tragedies had happened. It was just a nice weekend visit where Guaje brought two of his close friends for his dad to fuss over. 

 

Before Guaje could spend more time with his parents in his dream, the talking in the car woke him up. Opening his eyes groggily, it took him a while to focus and see that they were not alone.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“We’re at the port,” said David as he helped Guaje sit up. His shoulders were tense and Guaje could tell he was alert, “and we have company.”

 

Indeed, a group of people were standing outside their car, which, now that Guaje’s eyes had adjusted to the light, was inside the Port parking lot. Jorge was conversing with one of them.

 

“We’re here to see if we can make a trip across to the island,” said Jorge calmly, “all of us are clean and we have some provisions.”

 

The man talking to Jorge was in his late 40s. He had a stern serious face and a very fit build. The young man next to him was a fresh-faced youth barely out of his teens. Yet the look in his steely grey eyes spoke wisdom and experiences way beyond his age. Judging by the way the others seemed to respect those two, they were the leaders of this survivor group.

 

“Very well,” said the older man as he surveyed the car. His expression betrayed none of his emotions, nor did it change when he spotted Guaje and David sitting close to each other. “Are you armed?”

 

Jorge hesitated. Guaje could feel David tense even more next to him and he knew he must look quite nervous himself for the older man said, “I’ll take it as a yes from your reaction to my simple question. No need to get worked up about it. I’m not going to take your weapons away. A defenceless human is good as a zombie and God knows we don’t need more of them around. You will, however, need to register all your weapons if you’re to stay with us. We do not want nor tolerate any unwanted behaviour amongst our group.”

 

Guaje relaxed just a bit. He was relieved that their weapons would not be confiscated but still felt uncomfortable that they had to register them. But this man seemed reasonable and authoritative enough that this compromise was something Guaje was willing to make. After all, their chance of survival would be greater if they worked in groups, especially when the group seemed armed and well-organised.

 

“What about our other resources?” asked Guaje, wanting to make sure that they would not be cheated.

 

“It will be yours and yours to spend,” replied the man without hesitation, “We have a barter system here since money means nothing to us, not that we have the devices to even access them. But if you have brought anything, you can use them for yourselves or trade with others for things you don’t have. You can also use them in exchange for services. Once you’ve agreed to join us, you’re to follow our rules where no cheating or stealing will be tolerated. Equally, we will protect you to make sure no such things occur to you.”

 

Exchanging a look with Jorge and David, Guaje nodded, “Fine. We will join you. On one condition though, if we don’t like how the group is run, we’ll be able to leave without our properties taken from us.”

 

“Sure, as long as you have not committed any of the crimes above, you’re free to leave with your properties at any time. If you have, on the other hand, you have to pay retribution.”

 

“Then we have reached an agreement,” Jorge extended out his hand to shake with both the older man and the young man, “I believe introductions are in order. I’m Jorge. That is Guaje and David.”

 

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Colonel Pablo González and welcome to our survivor group,” said the older man politely while the younger man was much more direct and curt, “Saúl. Drive on.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The survivor group clearly camped out in the port, which was fortified with newly-erected walls and barriers. “We built these walls and keep on reinforcing them,” said the colonel once Guaje’s group had been led to a designated area with a small tent and parking space, “this is one of the rotation jobs all the men in the group have to participate in. We’re hoping that our departure from here will not be too far along, for I don’t believe we can hold off the zombies forever with these walls, especially when there are fewer humans left for them to feed on.”

 

“What are some of the other rotation jobs in the group?” asked Jorge curiously.

 

“Fighting with zombies of course,” said Saúl, his eyes hard as he looked at them sceptically. Guaje could not fault him, for they did not exactly fit the gladiator profile. He had no problem with people underestimating him. In fact, he quite preferred it that way, for he liked to play that to his advantage. What he could not stand, however, was any potential slight against David. “We’re all capable fighters. Otherwise, we would not have survived this long, all the way from Madrid. Jorge is an excellent driver and a decent shot while David is deadly with his weapons.”

 

“That is good to hear,” smiled the colonel, “we’re in real need to capable fighters. But other than fighting and warding, there are also watch duties, healing, cooking, etc. Most of the more physically strenuous activities are assigned to men only. Of course, if you have any special skills, you can be exempt from other duties to focus on that. For instance, we have an astrophysicist in our group, working to see if we can migrate to other habitable planets. He is, in fact, the reason why we’re taken seriously by the government for evacuation. It seems that he’s a bit of a prodigy and the best hope we have to solve this problem permanently.”

 

Upon hearing this, Jorge perked up immediately, “Who’s this astrophysicist? I have a friend who’s an astrophysics genius and we asked him to come meet us in Valencia. We never met him and I thought…”

 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Pablo,” Antonio’s voice came from outside the camp. Jorge rushed to the door at once. Pushing open the door, Antonio’s dishevelled head was soon engulfed in a bear hug from Jorge.

 

“What…” spluttered Antonio, his voice slightly muffled. Once he was released, however, he could see Jorge properly and his face split into a beaming smile, “Jorge! I never thought I’d see you again!”

 

“When… How…” Amongst the joy of seeing his friend again, Jorge was also slightly confused.

 

“Oh, well, that’s a long story,” smiled Antonio, “But basically I made it to the outskirt of Valencia before I was attacked. I managed to barricade myself in an abandoned building but the zombies kept coming. Luckily, Pablo’s group was nearby and cleared those buggers for me. I really wanted to go to Guaje’s parents’ place like we said but we could barely make it here. Anyway, we made it and they took me in. I owe Pablo my life.”

 

“It was nothing,” the indulgent smile on Colonel González’s face was the most expressive Guaje had ever seen on this stoic man. “Anyone would have done the same in a heartbeat.”

 

“Oh, you’re too modest,” exclaimed Antonio with stars in his eyes, “Not anyone would be as brave and smart as you. To risk your life for someone you don’t even know. That shows your noble character and kind heart.”

 

Behind Antonio, Saúl mimed vomiting and Guaje had to suppress his snicker. Trust Antonio to be theatrical and dramatic when his emotions were high. Not that Guaje was in any position to make fun of Antonio. He himself felt like some sappy teenage after meeting David, though he would never admit it to anyone, particularly Jorge, who looked like he was on the verge of bursting into laughter.

 

“Anyway,” coughed Colonel González looking a bit embarrassed but pleased nonetheless, “you were looking for me?”

 

“Oh, right,” nodded Antonio, “I’ve made a breakthrough with my calculations. I think it will be possible to travel to our target planet with the current resources we have. It’s tight but now that we have Jorge here, he can work on improving the energy efficiencies and I’m sure that will no longer be a problem. The only hurdle left is that I’m still missing the last piece to the puzzle so we can build a big enough vessel to get all of us off earth against gravity.” 

 

Everyone had a blank look on their face except Jorge, who looked excited, “Gravitational singularity, of course. Nobody has solved that, like ever. Is there any other…”

 

“Any other way would mean only a small percentage of people can leave earth, not nearly enough to create a diverse genetic pool to repopulate a new planet,” signed Antonio, “Unfortunately I don’t know if I can solve it, especially when we’re under such time pressure.”

 

“Maybe,” said Colonel González thoughtfully but Antonio interrupted him immediately, “I’m not leaving you lot. I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again. I don’t care if they can take me to their complex on the island so I can work there. I’m not going unless everyone else here is coming with me.”

 

“But you could work with the other scientists there with much better equipment,” insisted Colonel González, “Maybe you can work this out once you have the support you need.”

 

“What’s going to happen to you once I’m gone then,” retorted Antonio, his face flush with emotion, “I’m your bargaining chip. Once I’m there, they will renege on the deal. You’ll all be abandoned and left to die.”

 

Colonel González signed, “I understand perfectly the implication of sending you over before we’re cleared to sail for the island. Trust me, I’ve dealt with enough politicians in my life to know that. But at least you’ll be safe and maybe we can arrange for some women and children to go with you. They’re in desperate need of them so I’m sure they’ll make room for them.”

 

“But what about you?”

 

The look on Colonel González’s face was serene and somewhat sad, “To be honest, I never expect to survive this. I’m the de facto leader here, which means I must be ready to lay down my life for everyone else. More importantly, I don’t want to be responsible for the destruction of humanity. Sometimes you have to think about the greater good. Besides, we’ve got Jorge. You said he’s an energy expert, isn’t he? Surely they’d want him onboard too. Maybe we can still keep the deal that way.”

 

Tears welled up in Antonio’s beautiful eyes and he shook his head vehemently, “I’m not leaving you. I’m not going to take any chance. I can work here as well as anywhere. Besides, if I do go, I’d be worried sick about you all the time that my productivity would plummet. So that’s the end of that discussion.”

 

When nobody said anything, David was the first to break the silence, “So why can’t we go to the island now?”

 

Massaging his temples, Colonel González said, “Because only a small area in the island is cleared of all zombies. They’re still cleansing the rest of the island, which is going to take time. Until they’ve cleared the entire island, we just have to stay put here and, well, try to stay alive.”


	45. Period 6 - 2165 AD

Colonel González and Saúl soon left to allow the friends some private time to catch up and settle down. Antonio still looked peeved and agitated, which was why Guaje suddenly came up with the idea.

 

“Antonio, I have something that might cheer you up,” he rummaged through their luggage to find that bag of scrolls his father gave him, “My father gave me this. He said it was something passed down generations in his family from ancient Inca time. It was supposedly written by the last high priest but, of course, I can’t read Quechua so I don’t know for sure. But you might find it interesting.”

 

This did pique Antonio’s interest. “Written by Apu Siva? He’s said to be a genius with extensive knowledge of the cosmos way beyond his time. ” said Antonio excitedly as he examined the scrolls with great care and respect, “None of his work survived though, as the Spanish conquerors destroyed them all along with the Sun Temple. He himself was executed. If this is really his, it must be invaluable. Thank goodness we have some Quechua Spanish dictionary in the library. But how did your family get hold of this?”

 

Guaje shrugged. His father never told him much about his side of the family, other than the fact that they sail from the Andes although the first of their family might be a Spanish soldier who decided to settle there. “I honestly have no idea. It was also possible that father wasn’t really thinking straight when he talked to me. Who knows. In any case, it can’t hurt to read them though, can it? It’ll sure interest you more than me.”

 

Looking hesitant, Antonio asked, “What hap…”

 

“Both my parents are zombies,” said Guaje quickly, though not really harshly. He did not blame Antonio for asking but he had no wish to discuss it either. Catching the hint quickly, Antonio simply nodded and said, “I’m really sorry. I will read these documents and treat them with utmost care.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next couple days were spent exploring the port and interacting with the survivor group. Since Colonel González was a busy man, Saúl came to act as their guide. Due to their new arrival, they had not been assigned work yet. But everywhere they went, it was obvious that the group was well-organised and disciplined. Everyone was doing their job with no complaints and the campus seemed almost peaceful.

 

“Colonel González must have done a really good job managing all these people in such a difficult time,” said Jorge, looking impressed as they walked across the border. People were standing guard on the wall with guns in their hand, ready and alert.

 

“Indeed he was,” nodded Saúl, his eyes bright with admiration, “He’s the most courageous, intelligent, and impressive man I’ve ever met! When the epidemic broke out, he was the first one to realise the scale of the problem and to take action. He was the first one to organise evacuation from Madrid and thus one of the few who succeeded. Had it not been for him, we’d all be doomed. But more than that, he’s also a man with a great kind heart who takes his responsibilities seriously and will not hesitate to sacrifice himself for others.”

 

“How did you meet him?” asked Jorge, curiosity obvious on his face.

 

“He practically raised me after my parents died,” said Saúl matter-of-factly. Jorge gasped and apologised profusely but Saúl waived him off, “It’s alright. It happened when I was very young. Pablo has been a family friend for a long time and took me in. He’s the one who got me into the army. I honestly could not ask for a better father, guardian, and mentor.”

 

Still looking slightly uncomfortable and apologetic, Jorge hesitated before putting his hand on Saúl’s arm, “I’m sure he is. The colonel sounds like a great man and we’re grateful that he had decided to take us in as well.” And he looked quite relieved and happy when instead of throwing his hand off his arm, Saúl simply gave him a rare and thus even more beautiful smile.

 

Jorge and Saúl spent the rest of the tour in their private conversation. Not that Guaje minded. He knew he was not the perfect company for someone like Jorge, who tender heart and kind nature did not mesh well with his abrasive and blunt manners, despite their close friendship. Saúl, on the other hand, seemed to be a brave mature young man closer to Jorge’s age. With Antonio cooped up in his library, working on his calculation and reading the scrolls, Guaje was glad Jorge could find a kindred spirit. Besides, this meant he got to spend more alone time with David. 

 

Settling into a place instead of being on the run plus some nice shower had done wonders for David’s appearances. His messy fringe was tamer now and hung slightly in front his dark eyes. His face was no longer covered in grime and blood, which was such a nice change that Guaje could not help but admire David’s features. He found the freckles on David’s face incredibly cute, which was when he realised that he was doomed.

 

“Do you think we’ll make it out of this mess alive?” asked David after they had walked in comfortable silence for some time.

 

To be honest, Guaje was not sure. He knew that logically, his chance of surviving now was better than ever. Yet somehow, he still had the feeling that it was not enough. “I dunno. I reckon our chance is as good as it gets. In any case, I won’t leave you behind. If by any luck I do survive, so will you.”

 

Upon hearing this, David stopped on his track. Guaje wondered if he had gone too far. They had never talked about whatever was going on between them if there was anything at all. Guaje had always thought that David could sense it because, hell, if someone as thick as Jorge could tell, surely David could. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was reading too much into the situation.

 

Before he could say anything to remedy the situation though, Guaje was stunned into silence as David turned to look at him straight in the eyes. The look in his dark eyes was so intense that Guaje felt hypnotised. He might have made some embarrassing gurgling noise but nothing intelligible came out. A small smile crept up on David’s face and he stood on tiptoes to press his lips to Guaje’s.

 

It was as if the whole world had exploded and stopped at the same time. The only things Guaje could see were David’s eyes and his fluttering eyelashes. The only things Guaje could feel were David’s warm lips. The only thing Guaje could smell was David, which smelt like fresh pine and grass, so natural and refreshing.

 

“I’m sorry,” smiled David after he broke the kiss because Guaje was so shocked that all he could do was stand there and stare. He did not look sorry at all though. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” 

 

In the background, Guaje could vaguely hear Jorge’s snigger and Saúl’s whistling. His focus, however, was solely on David, who was still looking at Guaje with a smile on his face with his head tilted slightly to the left, as if curious about Guaje’s reaction. The only thing Guaje could rasp out was a choked, “Really? Good.” after which he had to mentally kick himself for sounding so unbelievably stupid. He had never acted like this before. It was his job to terrorise others and reduce them to mumbling idiots, not the other way around. The laughter that escaped from David’s lips made it all worth it though and before he knew it, Guaje had a stupid smile on his face too.

 

“Really,” David pressed a quick peck to his lips again to emphasise his point, “And I’m glad you approve.”

 

Feeling the need to redeem himself, Guaje hastened his steps to walk next to David. Without a word, he snaked his arm around David’s shoulder to pull the younger man closer to him. The smile on David’s face widened but he did not comment on this intimate behaviour. Instead, they continued their tour, talking about everything and nothing. Every now and then, Jorge would turn back to smirk at them and for the first time, Guaje did not mind. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once they’d settled in, they were assigned different jobs. Jorge, of course, went to work with Antonio at the research corner of the complex. David, on the other hand, was assigned to the gardens to help with growing vegetables and other foods. For people like Guaje, who had no special skills that could be used in this new world, they were assigned guard and fighting duties, which was overseen by Saúl. 

 

“Since you’re new here, we’re not going to put you on scavenger duties yet,” explained Saúl as he led Guaje to the wall. It was still so early in the day that the sun was not even out, “You’ll take the morning watch duty from 6 in the morning until 2 in the afternoon. Lunch will be available after that. You can either eat your own food or eat in the dining area at a price. After lunch, there will be a 2-hour training session from 4 to 6. Everyone is required to participate, including those not tasked with watch and fighting duties, as well as women and children. This will not only help everyone keep fit and alert, but also familiarise yourself with other fighters so you can work as a team when you do go on scavenger hunts into the city together. Dinner will be available between 7 to 9 in the evening. Same deal. We don’t usually do much after sunset so get an early night in and be ready for the same routine tomorrow. Watch shifts rotate every two weeks so you’ll be on afternoon shift later and then night shift. Depending on your progress at the training sessions, which will be overseen by the Colonel himself, you may be put on scavenger duties sooner or later. No later than 6 weeks so don’t slack off hoping it will exclude you from that. Any questions?”

 

Shaking his head, Guaje took his position at the wall with his gun clocked, taking a defensive stance. Saúl nodded appreciatively before leaving to patrol the area. 

 

The watch turned out to be calmer and more organised that Guaje could have imagined. Everyone was in position, alert and ready. Zombies would be coming towards them from a distance but very few could get close enough. It seemed that everyone was a good shot and they all worked in tandem, rarely wasting a shot. The guy Guaje was partnered with was called Nando, who was clearly an experienced fighter, despite his handsome features and the smile on his face. When zombies turned up in their area, he would yell instructions at Guaje, making sure they were taking care of different targets. Even though there was never a moment of rest during the watch, Guaje learnt to relax after the first couple hours and just focus on his job. 

 

“You did well today,” said Saúl after Guaje was done with his shift, “I’ve been watching you. You’re quick and calm, qualities that can save your life. I think you’ll make a great addition to our scavenger team once you get to know everyone a bit.”

 

Before they reached the dining area, they ran into their friends. Antonio looked reluctant and slightly cross-eyed. Raising a questioning eyebrow at Jorge, Guaje wondered what had gotten into the astrophysicist. 

 

“He’s simply obsessed with the manuscripts,” smirked Jorge, “He’s been reading it all the time, even going to bed with it. It’s quite alarming. I have to drag him out of his cave to eat.”

 

“It’s very interesting stuff,” protested Antonio, “This high priest Apu Siva is a genius. His understanding of the universe is so unique and insightful that maybe, just maybe, his teaching could be the key to our problems.”

 

“And since you’re the only one who can understand it, you need to take care of yourself by eating and sleep like a normal human being,” retorted Jorge, half joking half serious. Before Antonio could argue any further though, Jorge had turned his attention to Saúl, “So, how was today’s watch? I’m quite looking forward to the fighting session this afternoon. I’m not sure if I’ll be any good though. I’ve never…” and those two took off ahead of everyone else towards lunch.

 

“Is there something going on between them that I’ve missed?” asked Antonio, who clearly did not get the memo. David and Guaje exchanged an amused look before saying together, “Why don’t you ask them?”

 

“Gits,” muttered Antonio and they all laughed. Somehow, during all the chaos and destruction outside, Guaje had managed to find peach and normality within this bubble and he grabbed onto this with both hands, hoping it would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore the scientific fallacy here. Clearly, the discovery made in Inca time would not be enough to solve the problem of gravitational singularity.


	46. Period 6 - 2165 AD

The next couple weeks passed surprisingly fast. Guaje still hadn’t been assigned to any scavenger duties yet but he was steadily improving at the training sessions, which was taught by Colonel González and his best soldiers, including Saúl. They were absolutely brutal and Guaje could barely walk after the first couple sessions. To his great surprise, the technical personnel were given the same standard as the guards.

 

“Everyone needs to be ready,” said Colonel González, who stayed behind to tutor Antonio, who was clearly struggling with it, “Zombie activities are increasing every day as we speak. There might come a time when everyone has to fight.”

 

Unfortunately, he was absolutely correct. One thing Guaje noticed during his two-week watch was that more and more zombies were coming towards the wall every day. They were still able to hold them off before they get too close but their safe radius was shrinking. One zombie almost got to the bottom of the wall because a rookie guard panicked. Luckily, his partner, who was a more seasoned and collected soldier, finished the zombie off.

 

“We’re receiving new survivors every day,” said Saúl one day after the training session, “The more people we have here, the less there are outside for zombies to feed on and the more desperate they become. Naturally, they will turn to their biggest food source, which is this complex. Honestly, we can’t hold it here forever. I reckon we can only manage a couple more weeks. I wish they would hurry up on the island.”

 

A little over half of the island had been cleansed of zombies at this point, which meant that they still had to wait. Guaje had no idea how long that wait would be. He did not worry about himself. He was a soldier who could die any day. Saúl had hinted that he would be sent on scavenger duties in a week or so. Having come to terms with his fate, he only wished all his friends and his David would evacuate to safety. Although how much longer the island would stay safe was a whole different topic.

 

A week ago, an alarming piece of news had reached their complex. Thanks to Colonel González’s connection, they were no longer kept in the dark and were brought up to date with the most recent updates in the fight against the zombie epidemic worldwide. 

 

“Don’t tell anyone else what I’m about to tell you, okay?” said Jorge seriously at their little camp. Guaje shrugged. All his friends were here and he had no one else to tell this to. Well, maybe Nando since he was his partner. But he definitely was not going to say anything if Jorge wanted secrecy. David nodded too while Antonio raised an eyebrow, “What are you going to tell us and how do you even know it? I haven’t heard thing myself.”

 

“That’s because it’s a secret,” replied Jorge, his cheeks turning slightly pink, “Saúl told me but he wasn’t supposed to. So please, don’t say a word to anyone because I don’t want to get Saúl in trouble.”

 

Guaje smirked at the pink tinge on Jorge’s face. He wondered under what circumstance did Saúl divulge the secret. His thoughts must have been quite transparent on his face for David laughed and Jorge threw a pillow at him. “Shut it, you dirty old man!”

 

Antonio, on the other hand, looked scandalous, “Saúl told you a secret that Pablo did not tell me?! How can he keep it from me if it’s that important? I can’t believe it!”

 

“Maybe you should spend less time with your precious books and more time with Pablo,” snickered Guaje, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

 

Before Antonio could combust in embarrassment, however, Jorge brought them back to the main topic, “Okay, can we please focus on the important issue here and stay away from anyone’s sex life? We have a serious problem.”

 

Sitting up a bit straighter, Guaje dropped his smirk to focus back on Jorge. Satisfied with their attention, Jorge continued, “Anyway, this piece of news came from the Bahamas. As some of you may know, It is one of the first safe places established. All the islands have been cleared of zombies with the key survivors of the US east coast evacuated there. They are probably one of the most well managed safe places out there. Anyway, they had recently had a zombie turning up at one of their beaches.”

 

All of them gasped. This was unheard of. Everyone knew that zombies could only walk and were incapable of any complex movements such as climbing or swimming. That was precisely why the islands were selected as safe places. If zombies could swim, this could really mean the end of the world where nowhere was safe.

 

“How is that possible?” asked David, his eyes wide, “I mean if zombies could swim, surely the islands close to the mainland would have a lot more incidents of zombies making a landing. How can this one zombie make it?”

 

“That is the interesting and fortunate part,” said Jorge, “Apparently this zombie only swam a very short distance. He was a passenger on a ship heading for the Bahamas. Somehow he had managed to hide his conditions until they were close the port. He was discovered during the final check right before arrival and thrown off the ship into the harbour water. Presumably, he drowned and became a zombie. It then took him almost a week to swim to shore in the shallow water.”

 

“So the reason why only he made it was because the water was very shallow and the distance was very close. If he had to cross the ocean, he would have sunk to the bottom of the ocean,” asked Antonio and Jorge nodded, “That was the theory anyway. Naturally similar practices have been banned and no such incidents had occurred since then.”

 

“But that still raised the question that how the zombies learnt to swim,” said David slowly and Guaje’s heart sank. There was no denying it, the zombies were evolving, albeit at a rather slow rate. Jorge seemed to think the same as he sighed, “Exactly. And that’s quite worrying. We have no knowledge of zombie physiology at this point and this kind of evolution has never been seen before. I mean it takes years for species to evolve to acquire a brand new skill. So now we have no clue how long it will take the zombies to actually learn how to swim across the ocean. It could take them years or months. One thing is clear though. The islands may not be safe and we need another way out.”

 

“And that must be why Pablo had not told me anything,” said Antonio thoughtfully, “he didn’t want me to feel pressured.”

 

“Probably,” sighed Jorge again, “But honestly, if we can’t make it off the earth, we’d be doomed sooner or later. How’s your research going?”

 

Antonio scratched his head in frustration, “It’s going well but still, it takes time. High priest Apu Siva’s manuscripts are so complex that I’ve not even gone through half of them. Maybe I should…”

 

“No,” interrupted Guaje firmly, “You’re not going to put in extra hours. You’re already working overtime as it is. Any added more stress will only make you crack. Then what are we going to do? Just go at your own pace. I’m sure you’ll make it in time.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

True to his words, Saúl assigned Guaje scavenger duty in the following week. To Guaje’s surprise, Saúl was the one leading the group.

 

“Thought I’d stay behind in safety while others risk their lives?” smirked Saúl, “Never. Pablo taught me better than that. Now, we’re going to the nearby pharmaceutical plant to see if we can get some medicine. We’re running very low on antibiotics and anaesthetics won’t hurt either.” He laid out a map of the hospital, “The storage room is in the basement and that’s where we’re going. We don’t have time to search around so just grab what you can and go. I don’t think I need to remind you this but even though it is not as heavily infested as hospitals, it’s still considered a high-risk area because it’s close proximity to a military base. So be careful. We’ll be operating in groups of 2. Guaje and Nando, you’re with me. Everyone else, form a group with your partner. Gabi and Lucas, you’ll be in charge of driving and guarding the trucks. Time is of the essence here. Once we leave the truck, we come back in an hour. If we’re not back, Gabi and Lucas will just drive away with one truck while leaving the other behind. Once you’re back, go to Gabi and Lucas’s truck. Do NOT go back out! We don’t want to lose anyone if we can help it. Understood?” 

 

It sounded easy enough but Guaje knew how precarious this mission would be. In the past couple weeks, every scavenger hunt had seen them lose almost one-third of the group, which explained why they had become less frequent. Nodding gravely, the group, which consisted of 21 of the best fighters, geared up and started boarding the trucks. Quite a few people came to see them off. Everyone understood that this might very well be the last time some of them would ever return. 

 

Amongst the crowd, Guaje could see David, Jorge, and Antonio standing together, all looking extremely worried. Next to Antonio stood Colonel González, his expression grim. All the soldiers went to their families and friends to say goodbye. Guaje did not have time to open his mouth before David flung his arms around him.

 

“Please be careful,” whispered David, sounding agitated. Guaje was so used to his calm and serene demeanour that he found this new fussy David strangely adorable. “Stay close to Saúl. He promised that he would keep you safe.”

 

Releasing David from his grip, Guaje looked at his love straight in the eye, “I’m in the same group as Saúl so I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll be careful. But you know I won’t let him sacrifice himself for me.”

 

Letting out a strangled laugh, David smiled at Guaje, “What happened to the selfish bastard who only wants to save his own skin?”

 

“Been chatting with Jorge, haven’t you?”

 

“His lab is right next to mine. A bit hard not to.”

 

“I’m going to kill that ungrateful wanker,” joked Guaje before his expression turned more serious, “That old Guaje was gone the moment he met you. You made me want to be a better person, someone worthy of you.”

 

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” said David as he pressed his lips to Guaje’s, “I’ll always love you no matter who you are. So make sure you come back to me.”

 

Disentangling himself from David proved to be extremely hard. But at least he was not the only one having a hard time letting go. Next to him, Jorge was clinging on to Saúl as if his life depended upon it. Guaje made another mental note to watch Saúl’s back. He could not imagine Jorge’s devastation if anything would happen to the young soldier. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Their mission did not have a great start. Not ten minutes outside the wall, they were swarmed in by zombies. Tidal wave after tidal waves of zombies came at them, trying to get into the trucks. Even though the trucks were heavily reinforced, Guaje could still see the dents on the sides of the trucks. He hoped with all his heart that they were strong enough to last them the entire journey. 

 

“Okay, lads,” said Saúl unsteadily as the trucks were being jostled from one side to the other, “Change of plan, only half of the teams will go into the storage room while the rest will man the trucks. We will come back in 30 minutes and you’re not to wait for us! Understood?”

 

Once they had arrived, the teams staying behind positioned themselves inside the truck to take aim. Saúl, on the other hand, was leading the rest of the team to the storage building. Thanks to their planning, they had managed to park the trucks next to the entrance door, making the journey as short as possible.

 

The pharmaceutical plant seemed deserted at first glance. Guaje could see broken robots scattered on the floor, some still twitching. They were clearly knocked out by the rogue zombies. Yet no bio-organism seemed to be around. Maybe the zombies had fled because there was nothing here for them. They could not, after all, survive on robots. To their great relief, the lifts were still working. As stealthily as possible, they descended into the basement. They encountered no one on their way to the storage room and Guaje could not believe their luck. Saúl, however, seemed extremely wary.

 

“This does not feel right,” murmured the young soldier, his entire body tense, “It’s too quiet. Let’s grab what we need and get out of here as quickly as possible.” 

 

Having no wish to disobey Saúl and risk his own arse, Guaje did exactly as he was told. He and Nando packed as many drugs as he could into their backpacks while Saúl stood guard. Once the bags were full, Saúl motioned them to leave.

 

“Maybe we got lucky,” said Nando nervously in the lift. Guaje could tell he did not believe himself though. Nobody else said anything. All the guns were drawn, ready to engage at any minute.

 

The lift door opened and Guaje felt his heart stop. Standing between the lift and the door was a, well, Guaje did not even know how to describe it. It looked like a half man half zombie. Its face was still badly decomposed yet its limbs seemed to be in perfect working order. What was more eerie and scary was the fact that it was simply standing there, watching and analysing them.

 

“Fuck,” Saúl cursed next to him and he aimed his gun at the monster. It cocked its head to the side as if intrigued by Saúl’s actions. Guaje held his breath and watched Saúl take slow steps out of the lift. The monster did not ponce on Saúl like a zombie should. Instead, its hollow eyes simply followed Saúl’s movement. 

 

“Go,” hissed Saúl as he stopped in front of the monster, trying to hold its attention so his team could escape. Everyone else rushed out of the lift as quickly as their legs would carry them. This, however, did not please the monster.

 

It let out a long high-pitched howl so screechy that it had Guaje’s hair stand on end. That was when he heard the movement from everywhere. It seemed that the building was not deserted after all. Zombies were coming at the order of this monster, clearly their leader, and the team ran for their lives. Guaje fired shots after shots at the incoming zombies, running as fast as he could. He only stopped once he was inside the truck. To his horror, the monster had followed them out of the building and it moved in broad daylight without a trace of fear or discomfort. Saúl was the last one out of the building and he fired one last shot, hitting the monster straight in the head. 

 

Except it did not kill the monster. The bullet went in and the monster dropped to its knees, clutching its head while howling in pain. Yet it was still alive. Too shocked to react, Guaje was almost flung to the floor when the trucks started with a jerk and rushed out. Saúl grabbed him roughly by the collar and shoved his gun at him. Taking a deep breath, Guaje composed himself. The mission was not over yet. He still had to concentrate. By the looks of it, however, they would never have another moment of peace.


	47. Period 6 - 2165 AD

“We have a serious problem.” Saúl burst into Colonel González’s office without so much of a knock and the team followed him dutifully. The colonel, Jorge and Antonio, who was showing the colonel something excitedly before he was rudely interrupted, all looked up in alarm. While Antonio and Jorge’s concern was soon replaced with a beam at the presence of all the team members, the colonel did not look appeased. If anything, it seemed to alert him more. His unease intensified when Saúl practically shouted out his next sentence without waiting for the Colonel’s permission, a gesture extremely uncharacteristic of the loyal respectful young man.

 

“They have evolved. It can think and control others and it can’t be killed! I shot it in the head and it’s still alive!” Saúl looked downright frantic. Without a word, Jorge walked next to Saúl to wrap his arm around the young man’s shoulder. His presence seemed to have calmed Saúl down a bit and the colonel chose this moment to speak. “Take a deep breath, son. Calm yourself and tell me exactly what has happened, right from the beginning.”

 

So Saúl did, not sparing a single detail. Colonel González’s face grew paler and paler while Antonio and Jorge gasped in fright. Once Saúl was done, the colonel stood up immediately. 

 

“We must evacuate today,” said Colonel González in a solemn tone, “Antonio has just told me the good news, he has finished the manuscript and has possibly found the solution.”

 

“Really?” cried Saúl in delight, “That’s great. That means we have the way out.”

 

“Exactly,” nodded Colonel González, “I have talked to the island and they had agreed to prioritise us due to this new development. We need to go now. Saúl, please go organise the guards. I’ll make the announcement to the…”

 

His words were interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a guard. Some emergency must have happened for the guard had practically crashed into the room without so much of an excuse me. He had been running for he was out of breath, “Sir, the wall, zombies…” 

 

Colonel González rushed out of the room before the guard could finish the sentence. Everyone else followed him without a word except Guaje, who grabbed Jorge, “Where’s David?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Jorge anxiously, “He must still be in his garden. We didn’t think to…”

 

Leaving without letting Jorge finish his sentence, the only thing on Guaje’s mind at the moment was to find David and get him to safety. If his intuitions were correct, which they usually were when it came to danger, the monster they had not managed to kill must have gathered his army to attack the complex. It was now or never and Guaje would do everything he could to save David. 

 

The normally organised and calm complex was in utter chaos. People were running everywhere, trying to pack as much of their belongings as possible to the ferry ship. The guards, on the other hand, were fighting like never before. Guaje could hear both Saúl and Colonel González shouting instructions and firing shots at the same time. He could see why Colonel González was so respected and admired as a soldier. All his shots were clean and ruthless, taking out the immediate danger with no waste and minimal time.

 

“Guaje,” cried Saúl when he caught sight of Guaje but Guaje could not obey the order he knew was coming.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Guaje apologetically, “I have to find David.”

 

Saúl opened his mouth angrily but Colonel González stopped him. “Go and find David,” his voice was still calm and full of understanding, “and bring him to the ferry with the others. We’ll hold the front here.”

 

Guaje had never felt so grateful towards anyone before in his life. Nodding, he cried back, “As soon as they’re safely on the ferry, I’ll be back. I’m not running away.” 

 

Running through the crowd was not easy. Guaje was constantly interrupted by people to help carry goods or sometimes children to the ferry. By the time he finally got to the greenhouse to find David, working with the women there to gather as much produce as possible, the complex was already in trouble.

 

“We have to go now!” yelled Guaje as he literally grabbed David by the waist to drag him from his precious plants.

 

“Let me down, Guaje,” cried David as he tried to get back on his feet, “I can walk!”

 

Outside the greenhouse, Guaje could see the guards were falling one after the other. The walls were shaking under the pressure of the incoming zombies and there were only a few guards left standing. He could see Colonel González and Saúl still fighting but Nando was nowhere in sight. Shaking himself, he grabbed David’s hand and they ran towards the ferry.

 

When they were only twenty metres or so from the ferry, they heard the unmistakable sound of the wall crumbling down. Chancing a look back while he was still running, Guaje could see myriads of zombies stumbling through the crashed wall into the complex. His heart sinking, Guaje turned his focus back to the ferry. He did not want to see what was happening behind him. Tugging David forward, Guaje ran as fast as he could.

 

“Pablo!” the anguished scream from Antonio grabbed his attention again. Not daring to stop, Guaje kept pushing David forward while in his peripheral vision, he saw Colonel Gonzalez, one of the few soldiers still fighting, fell into the seas of zombies. A sharp pain pierce his heart as he saw the brave seasoned soldier being devoured by hungry zombies. But he could not stop. He had to get David to safety.

 

They were so close to the ferry yet the zombies were gaining speed on them. The ferry had also started slowly moving away from the port. They were running out of time. 

 

Just as they were in front of the ferry, Guaje could literally feel the zombies behind him. Feeling wild and desperate, he picked David up with an inhuman strength that he had no idea he possessed and throw the slight man onto the ferry. Luckily, Jorge and Antonio, who still had tears on his face, caught David by the hands and grabbed him onto the ferry. 

 

“No!!! Guaje!” Guaje had never heard David scream before, not when he was running for his life nor when he was face to face with some disgustingly frightening zombies. But now, he could hear the heartbreak in David’s voice. He knew what was happening, as a second later, he felt a rotten hand on his leg. Turning around, Guaje found himself in front of thousands of zombies. The complex was lost and he could see those who did not make the ferry, men, women and children, fell at the hands of zombies.

 

A bone-chilling sound stopped all the zombies in their movement. To Guaje’s immense horror, the monster that they had failed to kill had appeared. His ugly head was clearly wounded from their previous encounter but other than that, he seemed to be functioning properly. What truly made Guaje’s heart stop was what was in his hands.

 

Saúl was held upside down by the monster and was still struggling. Yet Guaje knew as well as anyone that all was futile. There was no escape. A quick look at the direction of the ferry told Guaje that Jorge was so pale that he looked ready to pass out at any moment. Luckily, whoever was in charge had the good sense to sail away for the ferry was moving away in front of them. The overwhelming sense of relief warmed Guaje’s heart. At least David was safe, along with Antonio and Jorge. Antonio had the solution so there might still be hope for humanity and his loved ones yet.

 

A pained grunt drew Guaje back to his reality. Saúl had been thrown onto the ground. Before he could make a move though, several zombies zoomed in and held him up in front of the monster, who moved his hand slowly towards Saúl’s neck. His head was again cocked to the side as if wondering what was going to happen if he snapped Saúl’s neck. There was no fear in Saúl’s eyes, only hatred and disgust. When he caught sight of Guaje though, his look turned from defiant to pleading. Guaje understood the meaning of it too well. Even at the last minute of his life, Saúl refused to bend and become the toy of a monster. He wanted to go his own way.

 

Guaje raised his hand and pulled the trigger. The bullet, which was going so fast yet so slow at the same time, raced through the air and hit Saúl straight in the heart. With a smile on his face, the young soldier fell to the ground. 

 

The furious roar from the monster reverberated throughout the complex. Guaje, however, was faster than anyone or any zombies next to him. The next bullet hit his own head. Before he succumbed to darkness, the last image he saw in this world was David’s smiling face, which filled him with the hope that maybe, despite everything, this was not the end and they shall meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got only one story left! This is probably the saddest one but there's the light at the end of the tunnel. I promise everyone will get their own happy ending in the next one.


	48. Period 7 - 2552 AD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last story of this fic! It's told from someone else's (Fernando) POV and set in a future galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited! This is the last story, which means I'm wrapping up the story. I hope you enjoy this one as well.

The night sky of Kepler-452b was absolutely enchanting. Not only was it filled with stars, but being the capital of the Galactic Confederation also meant that numerous spaceships could be seen zooming across the sky. For everybody else, the night time was a peaceful and quiet time to wind down with one’s family and loved ones. For Fernando Sanz, however, his day was far from over.

 

Not that Fernando could complain. Being the personal assistant of Mister Pablo Simeone of Cygnus, the General Leader of the Confederation, was an honour beyond Fernando’s wildest imagination. It was the most coveted job for a Beta in the entire Confederation and had never been bestowed upon someone so young as himself. The amount of trust the Mister put on him, a young Beta with no special connections, both flattered and scared him. He knew that there were many raised eyebrows when the decision was made, which was why he was resolved to work as hard as possible to prove those naysayers wrong and to repay the Mister’s generosity.

 

By the time Fernando left the office, it was already past 23 o’clock, less than 3 hours away from a brand new day. Signing slightly, Fernando stepped into his mini Jeep. A pleasant female automated voice greeted him.

 

“Good evening, Beta Sanz. Where would you like to go on this fine evening?”

 

Fernando pondered his choices. He could go back to the flat he shared with his fellow Beta friend Jorge, who was probably home already, either working on his project or reading a book. Jorge was an engineer and one of the most intelligent persons Fernando had ever met. Sometimes Fernando wondered that if Jorge would become a research scientist had he not been a Beta but an Alpha. But thoughts like this were meaningless for they were born who they were. Nobody could change the fact that they were Betas and thus limited in what they could do. It was all genetics. At least he was not an Omega. Fernando simply could not imagine what life would be life as an Omega.

 

Omegas belong to the lowest class in the society because of their own limitations since birth. Not that Fernando had many interactions with Omegas. He had, of course, met many Omegas in his day-to-day life, cleaners, waiters, alpha’s homemakers in their community, etc. Yet Fernando had never really talked to them. All his friends were Betas and his superiors Alphas. Since he was not an Alpha, he could never own an Omega. Some of his Beta friends had visited pleasure houses where barren abandoned Omegas were employed to provide pleasure and entertainment to Alphas and Betas. Fernando, on the other hand, avoided those places like the plague. He was a good Beta brought up in a respectable family. But Omegas had always fascinated him for he could not imagine spending a week every month driven solely by one’s primal instinct and desire.

 

Ever since they reached puberty, Omegas started experiencing monthly heat, a 7-day period where Omegas were driven into almost insanity by their desires to mate with Alphas. Supposedly, Omegas lost all their sense of self and rational thoughts. The only thing they could feel and think of was being dominated, knotted, and bred by an Alpha. There were suppressants that Omegas could take to allow them to function normally but they tended to lose their effect after Omegas reached adulthood until after their breeding windows were passed. It was therefore imprudent to give Omegas any jobs that entailed any kind of responsibilities. Their best place was to serve and breed. The biggest fear of any Omega was to be barren. Some were born that way and thus were doomed to a life of homelessness. They became playthings for powerful Alphas or were sent to pleasure houses. Others lost their breeding ability either after a difficult birth or because they simply reached their age. If their Alpha owners were kind and generous, the barren Omegas were allowed to continue their lives in the same household. Yet as one Alpha could only own one Omega at a time, some opted to replace the old barren Omegas with new fertile ones, leaving the old Omegas homeless and abandoned. If their children were too young or unwilling to take them, their fate would be equally miserable.

 

His ride home was pleasant and uneventful enough. The only benefit of leaving the office way after rush hour was that Fernando could ask his mini Jeep to chart the shortest drive home without worrying about mid-air traffic control. When he got home, Fernando was not surprised to find his friend Jorge immersed in a book. 

 

“How was work today?” asked Jorge without raising his eyes away from the book.

 

Fernando shrugged. Being the Mister’s personal assistant sounded exciting enough. But frankly, at this peaceful time, there wasn’t much going on. The robots did most of the menial job and the computations were as reliable as ever, saving them a lot of time in the decision-making. Had he not been a perfectionist, Fernando could be out of his office 4 hours ago, partying his heart out.

 

“It’s the same. Had a minor computer glitch this morning where the stats went mad and told us to invade Luyten b. Thankfully the engineering team fixed it pretty quickly. What are you reading?”

 

“A history book,” said Jorge, finally looking up, “It’s about Earth and absolutely fascinating. Did you know that back on Earth, there were no Alpha, Beta, and Omegas, only men and women?”

 

“What?” exclaimed Fernando in disbelief. No Alpha, Beta, and Omegas? That was unthinkable. “I had always thought they had the same genders as we do. I mean, isn’t Antonio the Saviour an Alpha?” 

 

“Actually, no,” said Jorge with excitement in his eyes, “Well, not exactly anyway. Antonio the Saviour was a man. But apparently, he could easily be a woman. There seems to be little difference intellectually between men and women.”

 

Fernando pondered this new piece of information. He was used to the idea that one’s gender determined almost everything or at least one’s limit. The fact that their Saviour, the brilliant astrophysicist who worked out the solution to get their ancestors off a dying earth to save humanity, could easily be any gender was mind-boggling. Perhaps that was the way of the old but time had changed since they had moved off the Earth. “So what exactly were men and women then?”

 

“It’s a bit complicated to explain. I think men were like Alphas, and maybe dominant Betas. They were stronger and they looked just like us. Women were biologically more like Omegas and submissive Betas because they could bear children. But they didn’t experience heat. They had this thing called a period, which I suppose was like a heat but they bled during that period.”

 

“How very strange!” Fernando was intrigued, “Did they look like us too?”

 

“Actually, not really,” frowned Jorge and he pressed his finger on a picture of the book to send it to Fernando. A second later, a picture of a human but with strange anatomy appeared in front of Fernando’s eyes.

 

“That was interesting,” said Fernando. The woman in the picture had two extra mounds of flesh on his chest that seemed to serve no purpose at all. Even more interestingly, the woman had a different genital, “and they could carry babies.”

 

“Apparently,” shrugged Jorge, “I have no idea how though but there you go.”

 

“Then how did we come about? Aren’t we descended from humans from Earth?”

 

“According to this book, the zombie apocalypse reduced the population of women dramatically. The scientists had thus been working on a solution to re-populate the human race. The space radiation also changed the anatomy of human, which eventually gave rise to us, Alpha, Beta, and Omegas. Pity they didn’t go into details on the evolution theory.”

 

Sniggering, Fernando turned on his own news feed. Only Jorge would be so interested in the theory of some obscure ancient humans. He personally found the current news much more intriguing. Forever a practical Beta, Fernando never lingered on the past, only the present and future.

 

News from various planets flashed in front of his eyes. There wasn’t really anything of significance at the moment. Not that Fernando expected any for he would have heard of it at work. His interest lay in the news of local areas. Often those were overlooked but Fernando learnt at a very young age that all the big changes started small. 

 

“Now let’s switch to the local news,” the pleasant voice of a Beta reporter came from a busy and chaotic street. “As you can see from the scene behind me, we have another protest on Omega rights from the Society for the Just Treatment of Omegas, more commonly known as SJTO. The protesters have been demanding laws for the protection of elder Omegas past their breeding window.”

 

Fernando sighed. This could mean extra work for him tomorrow. One of his job duties was to gather such information and send them to the Mister. What really troubled him was how much he knew this would affect the Mister, for the Mister was, unlike his predecessors, a compassionate Alpha with a strong sense of justice and morality. After working for the Mister for a while, Fernando knew for a fact that the Mister was absolutely abhorred by the treatment of Omegas, which explained why he was still single in his middle age even though he was one of the most eligible Alphas in the entire Galaxy. He had been trying very hard to rewrite the laws around Omega rights but had faced insurmountable objections. Fernando just knew how this piece of news would frustrate the Mister tomorrow.

 

“What’s the matter?” asked Jorge.

 

“There was another protest from SJTO,” sighed Fernando, swiping the news to Jorge’s feed, “I have to relay the news to the Mister tomorrow and he’s not going to be happy about it.”

 

Jorge watched the news with great interest, something he did not normally do when it came to local news. When Fernando raised an eyebrow at him, Jorge simply said, “I think I recognise this symbol somewhere.”

 

“What symbol?”

 

“SJTO’s symbol,” Jorge flipped through his book’s until he swiped another picture to Fernando, “Look.”

 

The symbol in front of him did look very similar. “What is it then?”

 

“It’s the symbol for this Society for the Just Treatment of Gay Sportsmen,” answered Jorge, still flipping through the book for more information, “That society was advocating the equal rights for gays.” At Fernando’s confused look, he quickly added, “Two men who were together. Long story. Anyway, I think this society might be the predecessor of SJTO.”

 

“Er, sure,” Fernando did not know how to respond. He frankly did not care where SJTO came from. All he knew was that their activities had been more frequent recently and had been gaining more traction. There had been talks amongst the Confederation decision-making levels about how to deal with them.

 

“The Mister is still on SJTO’s side, isn’t he?” asked Jorge cautiously. They did not discuss politics much at home after all.

 

“Of course,” replied Fernando, “But the other Alpha leaders aren’t. You know how much the Mister has been trying to reform the system. But without the other leaders’ support, he can’t do much, which frustrated him greatly. Now there have even been talks of…” Fernando shut up immediately. He was not supposed to talk about such things to a non-government worker, even though Jorge was his friend. Jorge frowned but did not pry. “It’s good to know the Omegas have still got the Mister. Somebody ought to do something about this absolutely disgusting system we’re in.”

 

Surprised by Jorge’s strong reaction, Fernando felt rather uncomfortable. He himself sometimes felt sorry for the Omegas too but he had never had the inclination to fight on their behalf. After all, even without the heat, all the Omegas were born weak and simple, never as good as even Betas, let alone Alphas. Fernando himself had never met an Omega who had independent thought and ideas. All of them seemed docile, submissive, waiting for instructions from others and willing to do the biddings of their superiors. He understood that Omegas should be treated better but what SJTO was advocating, giving Omegas equal rights and such, was simply ridiculous. Omegas needed someone to be in charge and take care of them because they couldn’t do it themselves. Who better than the Alphas, who were genetically designed to dominate Omegas, to do the job? Jorge’s indignation at the situation, which was so very different from his usual calm laid-back self, made him look at his friend in a new light. Was there something he did not know about Jorge after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kepler-452b is one of the most earth-like planets out there. It's sometimes nicknamed Earth 2.0 or Earth's Cousin. It's also known as Coruscant by NASA and it's in Constellation Cygnus.
> 
> I'm hoping my interpretation of the Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics make sense. I've never written anything about ABO so it's definitely interesting. It's also going to be slightly different (I think) from the ABO fics.


	49. Period 7 - 2552 AD

By 8 o’clock the next morning, Fernando had already settled in his office, ready for a new day’s work. The government building was pretty much empty apart from a couple Omega cleaners still working at the end of their shift. Work did not normally start until 10 o’clock but Fernando liked to be prepared.

 

“Morning, Gabi,” Fernando smiled at the older Omega who was watering the plant diligently. Gabi was probably his favourite Omega for he had a calm and composed air about him that set him apart from the usually timid and skittish Omegas.

 

“Good morning, Beta Sanz,” Gabi stopped his work immediately to greet him. It was only proper for Omegas to show respect and deference in the presence of Betas and Alphas. Not that most Alphas and even Betas acknowledged their presence, but Fernando prided himself on being courteous and polite, even towards Omegas.

 

Remembering his conversation with Jorge the night before, Fernando decided to ask Gabi about his thoughts on being an Omega. “Gabi, do you enjoy your life?”

 

Apparently astonished that a Beta would actually speak to him beyond perfunctory greetings, Gabi gaped at Fernando, “Excuse me, sir, but I don’t understand.”

 

“Your life,” repeated Fernando with great patience. It would not do to lose one’s temper at an Omega for being obtuse. It was not their fault they were born that way, “Do you like it?”

 

Gabi frowned, looking perplexed, “I beg your pardon, sir, but I don’t understand how I can be not happy with my life.”

 

Feeling rather frustrated, Fernando tried again, “But do you have everything you want? Do you want something more out of your life, like what some people think you do? Do you want to be able to do things that only Alphas or Betas can do?”

 

The look on Gabi’s face could only be described as frightened, for he gasped at Fernando’s question, “Please, sir, do not speak of such things. I am a good Omega. I live to serve my superiors. Such thoughts are not permitted, nor will I ever think…”

 

“But just hypothetically,” insisted Fernando, “IF you are free to think whatever you want, and no need to worry, this conversation is strictly confidential, will you want more?”

 

Gabi looked pensive. Fernando waited patiently until Gabi replied in earnest, “I don’t know, sir. I’m with a good family. My Alpha takes good care of me and I love my children. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have more choices but honestly, I don’t know what I’ll do with those things. I’m happy where I am now.”

 

Nodding with understanding, Fernando smiled at Gabi before he headed to his office. The conversation was not exactly surprising, for he had long thought that Omegas needed authority to guide them. The conversation with Gabi simply confirmed his hypothesis, which made him wonder why someone as brilliant as the Mister could support the ideas of SJTO. Surely there was some sense in their ideology, yet Fernando could not discern what.

 

“Good morning, Mister. Good morning, Mister Ñíguez.” Fernando heard the deferential tone of Gabi, which announced the arrival of the Mister and his personal guard, Mister Saúl Ñíguez of Kepler.

 

Mister Saúl Ñíguez was an extremely young but strong Alpha. Since his father’s death at the Last War of the Universe, Mister Ñíguez was brought up by the Mister, which explained why his extreme admiration and devotion to the Mister. Fernando had not that many interactions with the young Alpha for most of Mister Ñíguez’s time was spent organising the Mister’s security arrangement and his security team. But from his limited experience, Fernando could tell that Mister Ñíguez was the Mister’s true adopted son for he was equally intelligent, respectful, and hard-working.

 

More hard-working than most of the Alphas Fernando had met, the Mister always made sure he arrived in the office before most and never delegated his work to his subordinates so he could spend more time out of the office.

 

“Good morning, Gabi,” the Mister’s deep calm voice could be heard as he conversed pleasantly with Gabi the Omega, “How has your day been?”

 

As Gabi went on to describe his mundane life, the Mister settled into his office, commenting every now and then. Fernando rushed into the Mister’s office, ready to greet his boss and start the day.

 

“Ah, Fernando,” said the Mister with a genuine smile on his face, “I see that I’m beaten again. You work too hard.”

 

Fernando beamed at his boss and puffed up his chest proudly. Mister Pablo Simeone of Cygnus was a fit athletic Alpha in his mid-40s. He might not have the most handsome face yet he was the personification of the perfect Alpha in every other sense. Powerful and strong, the Mister commanded respect wherever he went. What really set him apart, however, was his kind, considerate, and dependable nature. There was no doubt that had he been mated to an Omega, he would have treated his Omega with the utmost care. Fernando knew for a fact that every single unclaimed Omega he had ever met had been drooling over the Mister, either publicly or secretly. They all turned into simpering idiots whenever they were in the Mister’s presence and some had even tried to trigger their heats, hoping to use their pheromone to seduce the Mister into a bonding. Of course, none of that worked, for the Mister had an ironclad will and unwavering self-control. He had remained unmated ever since he had become of age. Fernando sometimes wondered what kind of Omega would ever be good enough for the Mister.

 

“What have we got today?” asked the Mister as his personal station lit up after genetic confirmation. “I haven’t got the chance to check the news last night. The intergalactic treaty has been really taxing. Thank goodness it was done. Mister Florentino would have my head had I postponed it any longer.”

 

Hesitating, Fernando wondered if he should even mention the news of SJTO. After all, he did not wish to burden the Mister with even more when he was so preoccupied with more important matters. Yet he knew that withholding information from the Mister was never really acceptable practice. Resigned to reality, he proceeded to tell the Mister all about the protest the day before. The Mister listened with rapt attention and remained silent the whole time.

 

“Mister,” prompted Fernando when the Mister did not say anything.  

 

“Right,” nodded the Mister, still deep in thought, “We need to do something about the situation. I shall bring up the topic in the leadership meeting today.”

 

When Fernando did not answer immediately, the Mister seemed intrigued, “Do you have a different opinion on the matter, Fernando?”

 

Though the question was merely curious not unkind, Fernando debated if he should speak his mind. He was quite certain about the Mister’s stand on the topic so surely his own opinion mattered little. Yet the Mister seemed genuinely interested in his thoughts so he spoke up. “I’m just wondering the rationale behind the protest. I understand that Omegas should be treated more fairly and laws should be enacted to ensure their welfare under the care of the Alphas. But to give them equal rights when none wanted such is simply puzzling to me.”

 

“Hmm,” mused the Mister, “That is certainly a valid question. But are you sure Omegas do not want to be the equals of Alphas and Betas? Besides, we’re not only fighting for equality of Omegas but all citizens of the Galaxy as well, regardless of gender. For a bright Beta such as yourself, we wish to grant you equal rights and opportunities as Alphas.”

 

The thought that a Beta could choose whatever occupation he wished was certainly very tempting and frankly quite rebellious. Fernando had never pondered that possibility because it was forbidden. He had to admit though he quite liked the idea. But Omegas were totally different. “I’ve just talked to Gabi and he said himself that he did not wish for equal rights and responsibilities. He wanted to be taken care of by a strong Alpha, whom he believed should be in charge. Granted, I have not conversed with that many Omegas regarding this matter but I reckon they were of the same opinion. Those who demanded equal rights are likely neglected and abused by their Alphas. Once we ensure their welfare, I am sure they would be happy with the current structure.”

 

The smile on the Mister’s face was both sad and knowing, “Of course, you have talked to Gabi. I am not surprised by his response at all. But please remember, not all Omegas are alike. Some might be docile and submissive due to their upbringing and the restrictions we as a society put on them. But others may behave very differently. Omegas can be as intelligent and determined as any Alpha and Beta. Some even more so. I hope you will meet someone like that one day, who hopefully will change your opinion on that particular gender.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The leadership meeting was always a chore for Fernando. As the personal assistant of the Mister, he was required to attend. It was not that he minded the meeting, but he found the company severely lacking. The leadership board consisted of 4 members, the Mister himself included. Each had a vote while the Mister had an extra vote, ensuring that no tie would be possible. All the leaders were, of course, Alphas from prominent families of the Galaxy. The oldest was Mister Pérez of Deneb from one of the eldest and most influential families of the Galaxy. The family’s control on the Galactical economy was unparalleled and each head of the house had been on the Leadership board despite numerous rumours of corruption, power abuse, and other sordid affairs. He was Fernando’s least favourite leader, for Mister Pérez was cruel and ruthless, contemptuous towards almost anyone. While he barely tolerated the other leaders, his attitude to others was downright demeaning. He had had at least 10 Omegas since he became of age, each except the current one discarded after they passed childbearing age. None was allowed to stay in the Pérez household and was sent straight to the pleasure houses to live out the rest of their lives in misery and destitution. There were also rumours about domestic abuse of Omegas when they were in the Pérez household. Such scandals cost Mister Pérez the General Leader position.

 

It was also common knowledge that the Mister and Mister Pérez did not see eye-to-eye. Fernando found it hardly surprising for the two could not be more different. While the Mister was kind, compassionate, and progressive, Mister Pérez was cruel, obstinate, and power-hungry. Mister Pérez’s fury when he lost the position of General Leader to the Mister was reportedly frightening to behold and almost cost his Omega at the time his life. Ever since the Mister took office, Mister Pérez had been trying his hardest to thwart the Mister in his effort to reform the current system.

 

The other two leaders were much younger, even younger than the Mister. Both came from important families and each had succeeded their fathers in assuming the position of a Leader. Mister Villa of Coruscant was the same age as Fernando while Mister Ramos of Albireo was even younger. Neither was quite as ambitious and power-hunger as Mister Perez for both were young and unmated and deemed it their top priority to rectify the situation immediately. Fernando personally liked Mister Ramos a lot more. The young Mister always seemed cheerful and delighted to talk to Fernando whenever they met. It was true that Mister Ramos had a reputation of a hedonist and was known as a frequent customer of all the high-end pleasure houses. This might make him less desirable for Omegas from good families. For a Beta like Fernando, however, such reputations had little consequences. He was simply grateful that Mister Ramos seemed to treat him with equal friendliness and respect as he would any Alpha, albeit a bit flippant sometimes.

 

Truth be told, Fernando found Mister Ramos quite enchanting. With his winning smile, bright eyes, and muscular build, Mister Ramos was known as a heartbreaker amongst Omegas. Not that he was cruel to them. Quite on the contrary, he was known to be a gentle and affectionate lover, always putting equal consideration into the Omega’s pleasure, something very few Alphas do. But he had yet to settle down with any Omegas, leaving a trail of them heartbroken for disappointed hopes. Fernando never understood why Mister Ramos would not bind himself to a nice pliant Omega. It was, after all, the first duty of an Alpha to produce an heir. He did, however, secretly prefer Mister Ramos friendly and single. Some Omegas, particularly those from prominent families, were known to be extremely territorial and petty. Even though they would never disobey an Alpha, some were hostile towards fellow Omegas and even Betas. Fernando had experienced enough of them in the forms of the mates of government officials to never wish that upon the kind Mister Ramos.

 

While Mister Ramos was never as progressive as the Mister, he was at least willing to listen to the Mister’s ideas. It was only thanks to him that the Mister had managed to pass some of the reforms he’d been working on, which was why the Mister was working hard on gaining his support for the Omegas Equality Bill. The other Leader, Mister Villa of Coruscant, was a completely different story. Despite his young age, he had gained quite a reputation as being a cantankerous and conservative soldier. Out of all the Leaders, he was perhaps the most justified, next to the Mister, for he had earned his place not just through his family connection, but also through his military exploits. He was an extremely brave and fearless soldier, having fought some very gruesome battles for the Galaxy and triumphed. Fernando sometimes wondered if such experiences had hardened his heart, for he was always moody and short-tempered. Personally, Fernando had never been mistreated by Mister Villa but he could certainly understand others’ fear. It was thus hardly surprising that few Omegas of good standing were willing to be bound with him. After all, no good family would want their Omegas, whom they had spent years cultivating for family and political alliances, to become wasted goods after being broken by a rough soldier. Mister Villa’s only redeeming factor in the eyes of the old families was the fact that he was a fierce proponent of the old traditions and the current social structure. He combined with Mister Pérez meant that the Mister was thwarted more often than not.

 

As the Mister’s personal assistance, Fernando was in the meeting room before anybody else, setting everything up. Unfortunately for Fernando, Mister Pérez was the first one to show up.

 

“Ah, Beta Sanz,” leered Mister Pérez as his lusty eyes travelled up and down Fernando’s body. Feeling quite sick, Fernando simply replied with a curt “Mister Pérez” before he disappeared behind the desk, hoping to hide part of his body.

 

“What a pity,” sneered Mister Pérez, his eyes still fixed on Fernando, “that Betas cannot be owned. Otherwise, I’m sure for such a pretty little thing like yourself, tons of Alphas would like to take care of you.”

 

Fernando’s face turned a deep shade of crimson, not really from bashfulness but from anger. He was a Beta, after all, not an Omega. And he had no intention of being owned by someone, powerful Alpha or not. He knew that there were Alphas out there like Mister Pérez, who were not satisfied with owning just Omegas. They wanted everyone to submit to them, including Betas and maybe even less powerful Alphas. Fernando hated them with all his heart yet he could do nothing disrespectful against them, which only added to his vexation.

 

“I’m sure Fernando can take good care of himself. He’s a strong and smart Beta.” Fernando had never been more grateful to hear Mister Ramos’s voice, which sounded more serious than his usual joking way. Mister Pérez, however, was not impressed.

 

“It sounded like you talk from personal experience,” sneered Mister Pérez, emphasising on the word “personal”, which made both Fernando and Mister Ramos blush, Fernando from anger and Mister Ramos from reasons Fernando did not know.

 

Thankfully, the Mister had turned up at that moment, followed closely by Mister Villa, saving Fernando from Mister Pérez’s inappropriate and unwanted attention.

 

“Good day, gents,” the Mister greeted everyone and started the meeting, “We have two meeting topics today. Let’s start with the easier one first. Here’s my final draft of the intergalactic treaty. Please, take a look.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly I can't write sci-fi to save my life but oh well, at least I've tried :)
> 
> Deneb is the brightest star in the constellation of Cygnus. Coruscant is another name for planet Kepler-452b where our story is set. Albireo is the fifth brightest star, which is part of a double star


	50. Period 7 - 2552 AD

“You meant to tell us that the stupid SJTO is acting up again?” spat Mister Pérez when the Mister brought up the second topic, the SJTO protest. “When will those idiots ever wake up and stop?!”

 

“I agree,” scowled Mister Villa in his usual manner, “I have never stopped hearing about them since I joined the Leadership. I don’t understand what their problems are.”

 

“Precisely,” the smile on Mister Pérez was sinister at best, “What they’re asking is simply ridiculous. Who in their right mind will want to give Omegas,” he spat out the word with great disdain, “equal rights? To let a bunch of lust-crazed, stupid, wimpy bitches rule alongside us? They haven’t got enough brain cells in them to even clean the house properly, let alone vote on important issues. Besides, when their heat comes up, they’ll vote for anyone who’ll stuff their knot into their ho…”

 

“Thank you, Mister Pérez,” the Mister interrupted Mister Pérez with obvious disgust and anger on his face, “There’s no need to be crude.”

 

Mister Pérez smirked, “You’re unmated and don’t know them as I do. Trust me, the bitches I’ve had are all too willing spread their legs for a big fat…”

 

“Like I said,” spat the Mister, his eyes ablaze, “There’s no need to be crude. We get your ideas, thank you very much. Now Mister Ramos, what’s your take on this matter?”

 

Looking slightly alarmed, Mister Ramos hesitated for a moment. It was evident that he did not want to involve himself in this discussion. But with the other parties equally divided, his vote would be the crucial one. Fernando himself was curious as to what Mister Ramos thought.

 

“Er,” muttered the young Alpha as he shot Fernando a tentative look, “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think the Omegas are that bad.” The look Mister Pérez shot at him was absolutely filthy. “But I’m just not sure if equal rights is really a good idea. I mean I’ve talked to quite a lot of them and they all seem happy as long as they’re protected and provided for by their Alphas. Maybe we just need to make sure they’re treated well by the Alphas?”

 

This happened to be what Fernando thought and he was rather pleased that Mister Ramos was compassionate yet reasonable. Not many Alphas even deemed Omegas worthy enough of their protection. The fact that Mister Ramos wanted to help improve the Omega’s situation was a sure sign of his kind heart. Feeling another surge of respect for the young Alpha, Fernando gave Mister Ramos a small smile, which the young Alpha caught and returned.

 

The other two Alphas leaders, on the other hand, were not so pleased. Mister Pérez openly scoffed when Mister Ramos mentioned the welfare of Omegas while the Mister seemed disappointed that Mister Ramos did not see the need for equal rights for Omegas. It was clear that he was banking on Mister Ramos’s support to pass his reform. Mister Villa simply looked bored.

 

“So that’s 3 votes against equal rights for Omegas then,” drawled Mister Villa, “Can we consider the matter settled and move on?”

 

Taking a deep breath, the Mister recovered from his loss quickly, “Fine. It is settled for now. I do happen to agree with Mister Ramos on better treatment of Omegas though. Since that’s 3 votes, perhaps we can draft some changes to the current statue to that end.”

 

It was very clear this was not what Mister Pérez wanted. Yet with the votes in front of him, he had no other choice but agree. Nodding resentfully, Mister Pérez conceded, “Fine. Go on with your bloody draft and we will vote on it once you’re ready. In the meantime, I expect you to do something about these ridiculous protests of SJTO though. I don’t want to hear another complaint about them disrupting the peace of our society while making us a laughing stock in the universe.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Following the meeting, the Mister had been in a rather foul mood, which was understandable given the results of the meeting. Thankfully, the Mister had never been a violent nor cruel Alpha who would take his temper out on his inferiors. In fact, he barely showed any outward signs and had it not been his close relations with the Mister, Fernando would not even detect the Mister’s mood change. The most obvious sign was that the Mister was more easily distracted.

 

“Damn,” cursed the Mister softly, “I forgot to get Mister Pérez’s biosignature on the intergalactic treaty.” He turned to Fernando and asked politely, which again was so rare for Alphas, particularly someone of his importance, “Fernando, would you mind running to Mister Pérez’s office to get it in person? Thank you so much.”

 

This was not a job Fernando particularly fancied. Mister Pérez always made him wary. But he understood it must be done, for a treaty so important must be signed in the presence of a staff from the Mister’s office. Sighing, Fernando expanded his high-speed mini ship, stepped inside, and said with a clear voice, “Mister Pérez’s office.”

 

It took Fernando only 5 minutes to get to Mister Pérez’s office via the inter-departmental shipping route. After he packed up his mini ship, Fernando raised his hand to knock on the door but stopped.

 

Loud voices could be heard from inside Mister Pérez’s office, which sounded like a heated argument. Fernando hesitated. He knew that Mister Pérez would not appreciate being interrupted in an important discussion but he did have a job to do. Moving closer to the door, Fernando tried to listen to the conversation to decide if it was something he could afford to walk in on.

 

“... does not do anything, which I suspect will be the case since he’s a sucker for those Omegas, we need to take matters into our own hands. Once the intergalactic treaty is signed, we will be in the spotlight and we can’t afford a scandal like a ridiculous protest when Leaders from other Galaxies come to visit.”

 

Clearly, Mister Pérez was not pleased with the Mister’s stand on the matter of Omega welfares. Fernando wondered if he ought to bring this topic up with the Mister. It sounded like Mister Pérez was conspiring against the Mister on this matter.

 

“What do you suggest we do then?” Fernando was startled to find that the other person in the room was Mister Villa. He never took the young grumpy leader to be the plotting type.

 

“We fix the problem at its root,” Mister Pérez sounded confident, almost cocky. “Nobody will stir up trouble if SJTO does not exist.”

 

Mister Villa actually snorted, “Look, we’ve tried everything we can to disband them, but to no avail. Unless the Mister will pass the law to outlaw their activities, there’s nothing…”

 

“Oh yes, there is. There’re always ways to make people disappear.”

 

Fernando clasped his hand to his mouth to prevent himself from gasping out loud. Was Mister Pérez planning the assassination of SJTO members?

 

There was dead silence inside the office. When Mister Villa finally spoke, his voice sounded controlled and alert, “I am not sure if this is a good idea. As much as I abhor SJTO, I doubt mass murder of its members will go unnoticed by the public.”

 

“Not all its members, just the key ones in their leadership. Once we get rid of them, the rest motley of idiots will just leave the group.”

 

This was more important than the intergalactic treaty, thought Fernando frantically as he tiptoed into a corner to expand his mini ship. He had to inform the Mister. Whether Mister Villa agreed with Mister Pérez or not, the danger of the assassination of SJTO leaders was real. Mister Pérez was the type who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Mister Villa’s objection would not deter him but merely prompt him to change his tactics. The Mister was the only one who could put a stop to it.

 

Thanks to the Mister’s trust, Fernando’s genetic profile was programmed into the system by the Mister to allow him access to the Mister’s office at any time and circumstances, except when the Mister set it to “No Access”. The only other person with such privilege was Mister Ñíguez. Fernando therefore thoroughly ignored the “Do Not Disturb” and crashed into the Mister’s office without so much of a knock. To his great surprise, the Mister was engaged in a conversation with none other than Jorge.

 

“What…” muttered Fernando, so shocked that he almost forgot why he came in the first place.

 

“Ah, Fernando,” the Mister still had his usual smile on his face but Fernando could tell that he was uncomfortable. Jorge, on the other hand, looked positively scandalised, “You should have knocked.”

 

Narrowing his eyes, Fernando stood up straighter, “I am the Mister’s personal assistant and am allowed access except under momentous circumstances. You, on the other hand…”

 

“I have invited Jorge here for a discussion regarding system security,” interrupted the Mister smoothly. His demeanour had returned to usual, which did not completely convince Fernando. “There has been a lot of reports about network security issues. I just want to make sure that we remedy it before any serious breaches happen.”

 

Fernando still looked dubious. Even though it was not unusual for the Mister to deal with mundane problems like this because he cared so much, the Mister did not usually seek out the base-level workers to address the problem. The fact that Jorge was singled out was even more peculiar. But he knew that it was not his position to question or even, Antonio forbid, criticise the Mister. Nodding respectfully, he waited for the Mister to permit him to speak.

 

“We will continue this discussion later.” Jorge nodded and left without another word. The Mister then turned to Fernando with a smile, “So Fernando, what has happened to get you into such a frenzy?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Fernando proceeded to tell the Mister everything he had overheard. The following silence was probably the worst he had ever experienced in the Mister’s employ. Fernando had to quietly thank Antonio that the Mister was not a violent Alpha, for the storm of indignation and anger in the Mister’s eyes were downright alarming. Clenching his fists, the Mister started pacing the room like a caged tiger, frowning so much that Fernando could almost see his eyebrows.

 

“Mister,” prompted Fernando delicately after several minutes of the Mister’s non-stop pacing.

 

“Right,” the Mister took a deep breath, possibly to calm himself, “This is dreadful news indeed. I have never thought Mister Pérez would ever resort to such,” he stopped, trying to find the correct word but failed, “unfortunate means. Thank you so very much for letting me know so I may be able to preempt a murder. I am in your debt.”

 

Spluttering, Fernando blushed a deep shade of pink. He had never expected such sincere gratitude from the Mister, the most powerful Alpha of the Galaxy. What was he supposed to do? Shall he thank the Mister for being thankful? The idea sounded strange but Fernando simply could not take such appreciation from an Alpha.

 

Thankfully, the Mister made the decision for him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have a lot of work to do with Saúl to prevent such disaster. Could you please visit Mister Pérez again just to get his biosignature? We do need to send the treaty out today.”

 

It was only after Fernando had left the Mister’s office did he notice the fact that the Mister required Mister Ñíguez, his personal guard, in this particular task.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

On his way back home that night, Fernando was napping in his ship as per usual until he was jolted awake suddenly. Rubbing his eyes in confusion, Fernando looked around, trying to discern what had happened. The sight in front of him made his heart stop though.

 

A scantily-clad Omega had been running like mad out of a house, his youthful face filled with fear. Several metres behind him, an equally bare Alpha was chasing after him, creating quite a commotion. The Alpha was very strong and athletic. But the Omega was quick and nimble, leaping over hurdles and obstacles with great ease and grace. Unfortunately for him, his Alpha partner was not the only one after him. Soon, several Alpha policemen turned up and they closed in on the poor Omega, who had nowhere to go.

 

The capture was not a smooth one. Unlike most of the Omegas Fernando had met, this Omega was not going to go down without a fight. Kicking and punching every single Alpha within reach, he wrestled and struggled with all his strength, not so quietly either.

 

“Let me go you disgusting scumbags,” screeched the Omega between panting breaths, “Get your filthy hands off me! You have no right…”

 

As the Omega was dragged away, the A.I. on Fernando’s ship spoke, “Airway clear. Shall I proceed to the original destination, Beta Sanz?”

 

“What?” Fernando was still in shock, “Ah, right, yes.”

 

The moment he was home, Fernando threw his jacket in the general direction of the sofa and crashed into Jorge’s room. “Do you know what I’ve just seen?”

 

The hologram in front of Jorge disappeared instantly, but not quick enough for Fernando to miss the other caller completely. Jorge had apparently been talking to Mister Ñíguez.

 

“Have you made a habit of breaking into people’s rooms?” signed Jorge, half exasperated, half resigned.

 

“Why are you talking to Mister Ñíguez?” Fernando was momentarily distracted by the Mister’s personal guard’s appearance in his friend’s room that he almost forgot about the poor Omega. Jorge, however, was not going to let that slide, “Why are you charging into my room as if Hell was on fire then?”

 

“Oh, well,” Fernando debated if he should interrogate Jorge further about Mister Ñíguez but decided that it could wait, “I just witnessed a scene of absolute barbarity on my way home.” He then proceeded to tell Jorge everything about it. “I mean, they electrocuted him and almost knocked him unconscious! How could they do that?”

“They can do that because they’re in power and they feel entitled to everything in this universe,” replied Jorge sharply, his eyes lit up with anger. “Unless somebody does something, they will always feel that way. Only the lives of Alphas are worthy while Betas are dispensable and Omegas are little more than dirt underneath their boots.”

 

Fernando nodded enthusiastically, “Something definitely needs to be done and I will speak to the Mister about it. The Alphas are supposed to be the ones leading us, protecting us, not beating us. The poor Omega was probably just confused and scared. What he needed was a good caring Alpha comforting him, not some random Alpha police chasing after him! That was absolutely sick!”

 

Curiously, the look in Jorge’s eyes had changed from indignation to sadness and, unless Fernando was very much mistaken, pity towards him. This riled Fernando up even more. “What’s that look for? You don’t agree with me?”

 

Jorge signed, “I, well, I just think that perhaps instead of submitting ourselves to the absolute leadership of Alphas, who are granted rights simply because of their genes, everyone should have equal rights so we can all stand for ourselves.”

 

So they were back to the same issue again. Fernando simply could not understand why someone as bright as Jorge and the Mister could just miss the obvious. “Why do I have to keep repeating myself? The Omegas are not equipped to take care and decide for themselves. They need protection, not rights. Giving them equal rights will just leave them confused and helpless. They aren’t smart or strong enough to stand for themselves, not to mention the fact that they’re genetically programmed to submit to Alphas and…” His voice trailed off, for he remembered the act of defiance of the Omega. Fernando had never seen an Omega like that before.

 

Sensing Fernando’s hesitation, Jorge did not miss his opportunity, “That Omega fought back though, didn’t he? He was clearly strong enough and would have succeeded had it not been for the police. He didn’t sound very submissive to that Alpha either. What if there are other Omegas like him out there? Shouldn’t they deserve a chance?”

 

It would make sense, thought Fernando, but surely this was just an anomaly. Otherwise, how could he have lived so many years and only encountered one such Omega? When he told Jorge that, his friend looked pained and conflicted. “It may very well be the first time you, or the general public, have ever seen such an Omega. But the world may not be what it appears.”

 

“What in the name of Antonio do you mean by that?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Jorge looked Fernando straight in the eye, “The answer, my friend, depends on you. Can you keep a secret?”


	51. Period 7 - 2552 AD

The next day was a Saturday, which meant that Fernando got to relax and enjoy some time off unless some emergency happened. Given his stressful job, Fernando usually looked forward to the weekend. Not today though. Ever since the mystic end of his conversation with Jorge last night, Fernando found himself quite restless. It was not in Jorge’s nature to be secretive, particularly not with him. Whatever secret Jorge was keeping, it must be very serious and potentially dangerous. Fernando found himself frequently wondering what it might be. Somehow he had an inclination who else might be involved, which alarmed him even more.

 

“Are you ready?” Jorge looked both excited and cautious. Nodding silently, Fernando followed Jorge into the garage.

 

“Where are we going?” asked Fernando when he could tell that they were leaving the city. Jorge did not give him an answer though, “You’ll know once we get there.”

 

About 200 miles outside the city, Jorge landed the ship to the middle of a farm field. Completely bewildered, Fernando looked at Jorge, only to find his friend fishing out a small remote control out of his pocket. “What on earth is that for?”

 

Jorge gave him an apologetic look, “Sorry Fernando, but I have to blind you.”

 

Completely speechless, Fernando stared at Jorge, “How do you even do that?” 

 

“I,” Jorge suddenly looked sheepish, “I sort of hacked into your eye implant system and to activate the blindfold feature.”

 

“Holy Antonio, Jorge! Is that really necessary?”

 

“It’s just precautionary,” answered Jorge pleadingly, “We’ll turn it off once we’re there.”

 

Fernando hesitated. He trusted Jorge with his life, yet he was not sure if Jorge had enough influence and power to protect him in wherever they were going. Was this trip a big mistake?

 

As if reading his mind, Jorge assured him, “No need to worry, my friend. Nobody will harm you. I’m not involved in a gang I promise you. All these secrecy and precautions are really for our own protection. I’m sure you’ll find the people there most friendly if a bit different to your taste.”

 

It seemed like Fernando did not have much of a choice. With his electronic blindfold on, Fernando had little sense of direction and had no idea where they were going. The only thing he knew was that they were moving further away from the city life for the sound in their surroundings became more tranquil and natural.

 

About an hour later, Fernando finally felt the ship descend. Soon enough, a thud signalled the final landing. Jorge helped him out of the car and guided him without deactivating his blindfold. Fernando could tell they were in the wilderness because he was walking on rocks and dirt rather than paved roads. There was also an incline, which made him wonder if they were in the mountains. Before he had time to feel more though, they had stopped but only temporarily. A beep soon indicated that Jorge’s bio-signature had been accepted and they walked on. Finally, after another half an hour of walking, Jorge stopped him and turned off his blindfold. 

 

The room they were in was large and a shade too dark. It was a common room of some sort but there were no windows. It was efficiently decorated, with sofas, chairs, a pantry of Nutrient Packs, and solar heating panels. A few people were scattered in the room, either reading or conversing quietly with each other. None of them seemed to pay Fernando much attention, though Fernando could see Jorge nodding to a couple of them in acknowledgement. 

 

“Wait here,” said Jorge in a serious tone, “I’ll go and inform the Leader you’re here.”

 

Who this Leader was, Fernando had no idea. He was getting slightly nervous now that he was alone in a room of strangers. None of them seemed particularly violent or dishonest though. The fact that none of them had any visible strange tattoos had also calmed Fernando’s nerves a bit. If anything, it seemed like Jorge was not part of a criminal gang.

 

“Ah, Fernando.” A familiar figure entered the common room and Fernando felt his heart stop. “I’m so glad you can make it. I hope the trip was not too unpleasant. I’m really sorry about the precautions we have to take. It’s not that we don’t trust you. But given the current situation, one can never be too careful.”

 

The pair of grey eyes locked with Fernando’s were all too familiar. In fact, Fernando was sure that he was the fair few who knew that the Mister’s eyes changed colour from dark green to steely grey when he was concentrated and determined. So his suspicions were not entirely unfounded. Looking instinctively around the Mister, Fernando was not surprised to find Mister Ñíguez not far behind his mentor. Now it all made sense.

 

“Are you alright, Nando?” asked Jorge in a concerned voice when Fernando remained pale and silent. “I know this must be a bit of a shock to you…”

 

Swallowing hard, Fernando croaked, “What is this place?” And he wished with all his heart that it wasn't some sort of illegal political organisation or worse a religious cult.

 

“The headquarter of SJTO,” replied Saul calmly. 

 

Of course, it was, thought Fernando half exasperated half relieved. On one hand, he was extremely thankful that the Mister was not involved in some questionable organisation. But, on the other hand, Fernando was very disappointed that the Mister not only had a secret identity, which could cause a massive conflict of interest but also kept it from him. He was the Mister’s personal assistant, wasn't he? Wasn't the minister supposed to trust him? But more importantly, Fernando felt the frustration and disappointment that the Mister’s was not who he appeared to be. If he could keep such a big secret, what else was he hiding? Was all this perfect, hard-working, and caring Alpha image just a facade?

 

“I can see that you have a lot of questions,” said the Mister kindly as he seemed to sense Fernando’s thoughts, “I don’t blame you. I will try my best to give you all the answers. My only plea is that before you come to any conclusion, please hear us out while trying to keep an open mind.” 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first room the Mister led Fernando into was the kitchen, which was bustling with life as it was close to lunchtime. To Fernando’s great astonishment, he saw Alphas and Betas working in there as well. This was the first time Fernando had ever seen an Alpha in a kitchen, apart from the occasional time when they ran out of food and needed a trip down to get more. Even Betas were rare in the kitchens. Of course, most Betas knew how to cook. But very few would reduce themselves to working in the kitchen for a living. Even if they did, they were usually the head chef. Here, however, everyone was doing similar work. He saw an Alpha shoving potatoes after potatoes into the Nutrient Pack machine while chatting happily to the Omega next to him.

 

Not only were the Alphas and Betas different, the Omegas in here seemed unusual as well. It was hard to describe but Fernando had never seen one so, lucid and collected. Most of the Omegas he knew were either timid and shy or lust-crazed, driven by their instinct particularly in the presence of an Alpha. The Omegas here, however, looked completely unaffected. The one chatting with the Alpha was young and beautiful, with short blond hair, big blue eyes, and a cheery smile. 

 

“Antoine,” said the Mister with such a fond smile on his face that Fernando almost did a double take, “What are you doing in the kitchen? I thought you were supposed to be training on the ship today.”

 

The Omega looked up and beamed at the Mister. Tossing his potato to the Alpha next to him, he rushed forward to hug the Mister, who, instead of distancing himself like he always did, embraced the smaller Omega back. Fernando felt his eyes drop. Was that why the Mister had remained unmated?

 

“My training finished early,” smiled the Omega, Antoine, “They needed some help at the kitchen so here I am. How’s your day, Pablo?”

 

How many times could one be astonished in one day without developing a heart attack was an interesting question, thought Fernando warily. He knew he should be scandalised by the Omega’s lack of respect for not just any Alpha, but the Leader of the Galaxy. Yet somehow he was not surprised when nobody reacted to such insolence and the Mister simply smiled at the Omega. “My day has been quite interesting so far. We have a guest here you see. Fernando, I’d like you to meet Antoine Griezmann. Antoine, this is Fernando Sanz, my personal assistant.”

 

Frowning slightly, Fernando was confused. Was this Antoine not an Omega? His senses told him that Antoine was definitely one but if so, how could he have a real surname? Omegas had no surnames. Everybody knew that. They were given a number the moment they were born, which was appended to the first initial of their Alpha father’s surname. But no Omega inherited their Alpha father’s family names. It just wasn’t done.

 

“We have long agreed that Omegas have as much right as Alphas and Betas,” said Jorge softly, reading Fernando’s thoughts correctly, “The first step is to give their identities back. Every Omega here retains their family names if they choose so.”

 

“I suppose you could call me Antoine G3927,” winked Antoine with a cheeky smile, “But honestly it is a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it? Besides, I can’t even remember all these random numbers myself so it’s a bit cruel to force others to do that, wouldn't you say?”

 

Fernando had no idea what to say. The Omegas he knew would apologise profusely for the inconvenience they had caused before shutting their mouth and remain silent unless spoken to. They certainly did not have the courage nor the brain to answer back and tease him.

 

“You must excuse Antoine’s cheek,” chuckled the Mister when he saw the dumbfounded expression on Fernando’s face, “He’s been spoilt too much here.”

 

“And guess who’s the culprit?” muttered Antoine and Mister Ñíguez at the same time. They looked at each other before bursting into laughter. Shaking his head, the Mister beckoned Fernando forward, “Come on, let’s move on with the tour.”

 

As they walked down the hallway, the little group (Antoine invited himself to the party and nobody bothered to stop him) ran into several Alphas, Betas, and Omegas. Everyone smiled and greeted the group warmly yet not one of them, including the Omegas, seemed overly in awe in the presence of a strong Alpha like the Mister.

 

“Have you seen David?” asked the Mister and the Omega nodded with a chuckle, “He’s in the study as always, with his eyes stuck to a book.”

 

“Of course,” smiled the Mister, “Thank you.”

 

The library was spacious and spotless, filled with large workspaces. It was also the only room so far with windows and sure enough, they were high up inside a mountain. The view outside was spectacular but Fernando had his eyes on something else.

 

A small Omega could be seen working in the largest workspace. He was busy reading a book filled with complex symbols and diagrams that Fernando had never even seen before. Moreover, he was swiping through the pages so fast that Fernando doubted if he even understood it all.

 

“David is the cleverest person you’ll ever meet,” said Jorge with a note of pride and admiration, “He has the only one I know with an eidetic memory. This study really is his personal castle.”

 

A smart Omega? This was unheard of. How was this possible? Fernando simply could not fathom how the Omegas in this place were so drastically different from the ones he had encountered in real life? Did they have some sort of secret? A drug perhaps?

 

“Actually it was the opposite.” It appeared that David the Omega was not only good at reading books, but also at reading minds. His dark eyes were bright and piercing but his smile was so kind and gentle and Fernando could not help but warm up to him. “David Silva.” He extended his hand confidently, which Fernando shook with some surprise, which soon turned into a smile. 

 

“What do you mean by the opposite?”

 

“We appear so different from the Omegas out there because we have been brought up here since we were very young,” said David with a nostalgic smile on his face.

 

“SJTO has been taking in Omega orphans from different orphanages across the Galaxies,” added Mister Ñíguez, “Very few Omegas orphans get adopted and even if they do, they usually turn out to be the, well,” coughed Mister Ñíguez uncomfortably and Jorge put his hand on the younger Alpha’s arm, “sex slaves of the Alphas in the adopted families. If they are not adopted, they usually grow up to do the most menial jobs and mated to the worst Alphas, or worse, straight to the pleasure houses.”

 

“I lost my parents when I was very young,” said David, “Even though it was traumatising and sad, I’m also grateful that SJTO picked me up for otherwise, I’d end up like the mindless Omegas out there.”

 

“But what’s your secret then? What have you done?” asked Fernando, still not understanding this. Surely all these drastic differences could not all be attributed to their upbringing.

 

“It’s rather what we haven’t done,” answered the Mister solemnly, “All the Omegas in the care of SJTO do not eat the standard Nutrient Packs. You may have seen it from the kitchen but we make all of our Nutrient Packs for Omegas from raw material. We even grow quite a few of them. That way, the food for Omegas are not tampered with.”

 

“Tempered with…” whispered Fernando. He felt like he was getting closer to unveiling the biggest secret of their society, which scared him to no end.

 

“Yes,” David took a deep breath and continued with a determined look in his dark eyes, “The government has been adding artificial hormones to the Nutrient Packs for YEARS, since the beginning of the birth of the new genders. At first, those hormones were added to help enhance the Omegas’ reproductive and childbearing abilities. After all, we all evolved from Men, who could not carry children. But soon, the authority discovered that those hormones could be modified to control Omegas. They enhance the Omega’s heat and dull their minds to the point that they turn into mindless animals driven solely by their sexual desires. Because a lot of the original Men-turned-Omegas found it hard to accept their new roles, the authority felt justified to administer the drugs to those Omegas to ensure the survival of the human species. Soon, however, it turned into a mandatory thing and was swept under the rugs, never to be talked about. What was originally done arguably out of necessity soon turned into another tool for the authority to control and oppress parts of its population.”

 

“And the SJTO has been trying very to combat that once we found out about it,” said the Mister with a grave look on his face, “It took a while to confirm for it was the best-kept secret of the government. But since then, we’ve been making our own Nutrient Packs. That’s why we’re fighting for equal rights for everyone, particularly Omegas, because we’re all capable of the same things and can reach our fullest potentials if given the chance. We just need a platform to do that.”

 

It was too much information to digest. Fernando felt physically ill. He simply could not fathom the idea that the government had been drugging them the whole time. How was that possible? And the poor Omegas, reduced to such miserable state of living, all because the Alphas in power wanted to satisfy their own desires. “So you don’t…”

 

“We don’t lose our mind during our heat,” answered Antoine, who had read Fernando’s thoughts, “We still have, well,” his face turned pink, “a lot of urges, which is not the most fun thing in the world when you’re unmated. But it’s manageable. We are still lucid and can still make our own decisions. David has been working on perfecting the heat suppressant to completely eliminate those effects too.”

 

Fernando did not want to believe it but deep down, he knew that they were telling the truth. They had to be because no Omegas he knew out there could pretend to be so intelligent no matter how hard they tried. It was just so explosive that Fernando did not know how to process it.

 

“Take your time,” said the Mister kindly, “It was a lot to take in. Why don’t you spend more time here and meet more people? You can talk to them and see for yourself. It’s time to open your eyes, Fernando and see the world for what it really is. I know you, Fernando. You’re intelligent and kind enough to figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's my take on the Omega's heat :)


	52. Chapter 52

The rest of the day was spent in the headquarter of SJTO, which turned out to be a very pleasant experience. Fernando was no longer so frequently surprised but he did find it hard to believe from time to time when he saw the Omegas and Betas there demonstrating all sorts of skills and talents.

 

“Lucas and I always partner up together,” said Antoine with a bright smile. The chatty and friendly Omega volunteered to be Fernando’s guide and the Beta found himself quickly drawn to the cheerful young Omega, “He’s much better at defence than I am. I prefer to attack. Not very Omega of me, is it?” Antoine winked at Fernando, who chuckled. But Antoine was true. No Omegas were allowed to fly a proper spaceship, let alone to fight in one. Fernando did not want to guess why Omegas here were being trained for such duties but he had a few good guesses.

 

“Antoine is one of the best pilots I’ve ever seen,” the Mister had appeared again after one of his meetings and was looking at the young Omega with great fondness in his eyes. Antoine’s face turned slightly pink but the smile on his face was simply dazzling, “Aww, Pablo!”

 

Behind them, Mister Ñíguez mimed vomiting while Jorge was shaking in silent laughter. So Fernando was right. There was something going on between the Mister and the beautiful young Omega. Now that he had witnessed the real potentials of Omegas, Fernando could not blame the Mister for not setting his eyes on the drugged ones out there. How could a docile, meek, and simple Omega compare to the bright, lively, and feisty Antoine?

 

“When did this all start?” Fernando addressed the question to Mister Ñíguez and Jorge when he realised that the Mister and Antoine were too busy being besotted with each other to pay them any attention.

 

“SJTO? Ages ago,” said Mister Ñíguez and Jorge nodded. “I think its predecessor was founded by a footballer back on earth.”

 

“Footballer?”

 

“A sportsman. They used to play this sports called football back then. Anyway, he started it to fight for the rights of gay sportsmen, you know, a couple of two men or two women. I reckon it’s a bit like two Alphas or an Alpha and a Beta or a Beta and an Omega loving each other.”

 

Fernando thought about it. Before today, he would have scoffed at the idea. What rights did a couple who could not produce children have? He knew that this kind of relationships was tolerated in some other Galaxies but not here. And he used to be proud of that fact. Now, being opened to a whole new world of ideas and truths, Fernando was not so sure. Maybe they were right. Two people had rights to love each other, even though they could not reproduce.

 

When he looked up, Fernando was surprised to see Jorge watching him intently, as if his reaction to this piece of information was extremely important. Frowning slightly, Fernando looked back at Jorge with a questioning look but his friend shifted his eyes away quickly.

 

“As women died out after we migrated from earth, men started to evolve into completely different genders so the point of gay couples became more or less a moot point. More importantly, the mistreatment of Omegas turned out to be a bigger problem and that was how SJTO morphed into its current state.”

 

“What’s your plan then?” asked Fernando curiously, “Apart from protesting for equal rights for Omegas of course. I mean, how do the Omegas here handle the world outside? Or do they live here forever?”

 

Mister Ñíguez signed, “That has been our real challenge and why we’re fighting so hard for Omega’s rights. Right now, our Omegas have to grow up hidden away from public eyes. It’s not good for them, cooped up here all the time. We try to take them out on minor trips but accidents happen. The Omega you witness yesterday must have escaped one of our facilities to explore or got lost during one of his outings. Every now and then, an Omega and an Alpha here fall in love and want to move out to start a real life. We always let them go if they want to. But very few couples actually manage to integrate into the lives outside. I mean, how could they? Once you know the truth, how can you go out pretending to be ignorant and simple? We also help them migrate to other Galaxies where Omegas are treated more fairly but some are so attached to lives here that they’re not willing to move. It’s a big problem and we owe it to the Omegas to be able to live their lives freely without horror and repression. I will do whatever it takes for that goal.”

 

The question was, how could such a goal be achieved. Fernando knew that for any laws to pass, it would require a majority vote. Perhaps Mister Ramos could be persuaded. But even then, it might not be a safe bet, as Mister Pérez was determined to oppose the law, even resorting to murder. They had to secure the vote of Mister Villa too for the law to stand a slight chance but Fernando simply could not see that happening. Grumpy, conservative Mister Villa, advocating for Omega rights? Unthinkable. And quite frankly, he would not want to present this idea to Mister Villa. Fernando valued his life too much, thank you very much.

 

“Our top priority at this point,” added Jorge, “is to ensure the security of the Mister and everyone here given the threat of assassination.” He turned to look at Mister Ñíguez with real concern, who puffed up his chest proudly. “I won’t let anyone hurt the Mister. I will die protecting him.”

 

“That’s why I worry,” muttered Jorge and Fernando had a thought. Was his friend in love with Mister Ñíguez? Was that why Jorge was nervous about his reaction on gay sportsmen? He was worried that Fernando, his best friend, would not accept his feelings for an Alpha?

 

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” the Mister’s joking voice made them all jump. Antoine snickered but the Mister’s face soon turned serious, “I’m serious though. Don’t worry about me. I know how to take care of myself. You’re not going to sacrifice yourself for me, Saúl.” When Mister Ñíguez looked ready to argue, the Mister put on his authoritative face and held up a hand, “Please, Saúl, no argument. Now, I think it’s time we return Fernando to the city. It’s getting late and it’s been a long day.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

On their way back, Fernando volunteered to have himself blindfolded. Now that he knew what was at stake, he did not wish to risk the lives of so many innocent people. Once they were outside the mountain, Jorge soon turned the blindfold off.

 

“How long have you been with them?” asked Fernando once he could see his friend. Given the shock and excitement of the day, Fernando had not had the chance to actually ask his friend about his particular involvement in SJTO. “How did you even know of them?”

 

“Well,” Jorge’s face turned faintly pink, “I met Saúl a couple years ago and he just, well, introduced me to the organisation.” His expression soon turned sombre, “Once I knew about the situation, how could I not join and fight for what is right?”

 

Of course, Jorge would feel that way. Despite being generally quiet and reserved, Jorge had a gigantic heart the size of the entire Galaxy with an equal amount of courage to match. Fernando had always admired his friend for his high moral standards and his strength. He did not know if he would be able to do that himself. “Do you ever get scared? You know, that you would be discovered or hurt? I mean, we’re Betas. If Mister Pérez is willing to kill the Mister, what will he do to us Betas? We’re not Alphas and we’re expendable.”

 

Jorge thought about it for a second, “I reckon I did when I first joined. It’s natural to feel scared. The Mister did warn us about potential outcomes and how can you not feel scared? We’ve never experienced things like this before. But once you get to know them, you realise that some things are bigger than just yourself. There are some things in this world worth fighting for, worth dying for, even if it has little to do with you.”

 

Fernando sighed, “I wish I can be as strong as you. I really want to help but I just…”

 

“Hmm,” mused Jorge, “There’s a film you might be interested in. It was made ages ago when they were still on Earth and Saúl showed it to me when I first joined. It was our first da… I mean meeting. Anyway, it’s forbidden because the authority feared that it might be too provocative that it may instigate a revolution. It’s a very gripping film. I think you’d enjoy it, regardless of this SJTO situation.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was almost midnight when they got home. Despite the lateness of the hour, Fernando was too charged to fall asleep. After tossing and turning in his bed for a good half hour, Fernando finally gave up. He got up and projected the film Jorge sent him. Since he could not sleep, he might as well make some good use of his time.

 

The film was 2.5 hours long but to Fernando, it went by so quickly for he did not think he paused to take a breath the whole time. He was so engrossed in both the history, which was about the Second World War, something Fernando had heard of but knew almost nothing about, and the characters, some Resistance fighters who risked and sacrificed their own lives for the liberations of their countries and the oppressed Jews. Fernando could not help but notice the similarity between the current situation and the one in the film. If those Resistance fighters, many of who were not even Jewish, could do it, maybe he could as well.

 

The result of his late night entertainment was that Fernando did not wake up until past midday the next day. As he wandered into the living room, Fernando was greeted with Jorge sitting at the table, drinking his Nutrient Pack.

 

“Had a bad night’s sleep?” asked Jorge sounding concerned, “You don’t usually sleep in.”

 

“The sleep’s decent,” answered Fernando and he grabbed himself his Nutrient Pack, “I stayed up late to watch the film and…” Fernando took a deep breath as he felt Jorge’s eyes fixed on him, “I think I want to help. I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to go marching on the streets to protest at this point but I want to help.”

 

The smile on Jorge’s face was so bright and dazzling that Fernando almost felt abashed. He did not feel that he deserved it for he was still somewhat scared. Jorge did not seem to mind though, “That’s wonderful, my friend! I understand how you feel, of course, and honestly, we don’t expect you to go out and start protesting. The Mister wants to protect us as much as possible. But you can definitely help! Let me call the Mister and Saúl now.”

 

A couple hours later, Fernando found the Mister and Saúl, along with Antoine and David sitting in his flat, drinking tea. It was a bit of a surreal sight, for Fernando had never imagined that he’d one day entertain the Mister and a couple Omegas in his flat. Everyone else seemed quite at home though. Antoine’s blue eyes were roaming around the room with almost childlike enthusiasm and curiosity.

 

“You’ve got a nice flat,” said David with a smile, “The view into the mountain is simply stunning.”

 

“Thank you,” muttered Fernando, “I don’t think I get to spend enough time at home to really appreciate it though.”

 

“You work way too hard,” smiled the Mister, “I should give you some time off.”

 

Fernando knew that even if the Mister did give him some time off, he could not rest. It was in his blood to work hard. Besides, he did not feel right to stay back and relax at this crucial juncture. Getting straight to business, he asked, “So, what can I do to help?”

 

Everyone else fell silent. Fernando’s heart sank. What on earth did they have in mind? Before his imagination could run too wild, however, the Mister spoke up, “We do have something in mind that I think only you can do. It’s, well, a bit…”

 

To see the Mister fumble for word was a rare sight, which did not exactly calm Fernando’s nerves. Saúl, on the other hand, seemed more at ease with the idea, “We think you’re the perfect one to convert Mister Ramos.”

 

Now that was unexpected. Fernando had anticipated something else, like spying for SJTO, talking to more betas, things of that sort. But to convert Mister Ramos was something completely different. Frankly, Fernando had no idea why he was chosen and how he could achieve that. 

 

“Why me?” Fernando could not help but blurt out his doubt, “And how am I…”

 

“I’ve been watching your interaction with Mister Ramos for quite some time,” said the Mister with an encouraging smile, “I believe there’s a connection between you two. Mister Ramos is very fond of you, more than any other Betas I know of. But more importantly, he respected your intelligence and sense. He’s already more liberal than Mister Villa, not to mention Mister Pérez. If anyone could open his eyes, I believe it’s you.”

 

Now that Fernando was not so sure about. Although it was true that he had developed a rapport with Mister Ramos over the years, Fernando sincerely doubted his friendship, if it could even be called that, with Mister Ramos would be enough to persuade the young Alpha. After all, Fernando was simply a Beta, not an Alpha whom Mister Ramos could regard as his equal, or even an Omega who might capture Mister Ramos’s heart. Why would the young Leader listen to his opinion? Not wishing to disappoint the Mister, however, Fernando promised to at least try.

 

“Wonderful!” The Mister clasped his hands together enthusiastically, “If we can win the vote of Mister Ramos, we’ll have a much better chance at passing the law.”

 

“But surely Mister Pérez won’t just give up,” said Saúl, still looking concerned, “If he’s going to resort to murder, he must be very determined and desperate. We need to isolate him, which means we need Mister Villa’s support as well.”

 

That was easier said than done. After a couple hours of discussion and brainstorming, the group had to concede that they could not find a weak point of the grumpy Leader.

 

“We will cross that bridge when we come to it,” said the Mister with a finality in his tone, “I know it’s not ideal if we propose the law without Mister Villa’s support but I hate to postpone the reformation any longer. If by any chance we have an opportunity, we will try to convert Mister Villa. Otherwise, we will go with the current plan where we have the majority vote.”


	53. Period 7 - 2552 AD

Over the next several days, Fernando spent his spare time thinking about ways to convert Mister Ramos. Yet he simply could not see how he could achieve it. He did do the only thing he knew would help though: getting closer to Mister Ramos.

 

Thankfully, given Fernando’s position as the Mister’s personal assistant, it was not hard to create opportunities for him to run into Mister Ramos. With the Mister’s blessing, Fernando volunteered to deliver any documents or messages to Mister Ramos in person rather than just sending them through the network. He also purposefully picked around lunch time to go, which meant that Mister Ramos would always invite him to lunch afterwards. Truth be told, Fernando did not mind the extra time spent in Mister Ramos’s company at all. He did, however, have some issues when it came to the actual food.

 

“Please, Mister Ramos,” insisted Fernando after the twentieth time, “Let me pay for my food. I simply cannot accept your hospitality any longer.”

 

“But it’s nothing,” cried Mister Ramos in genuine surprise, “I asked you to lunch, didn’t I? It’s only fair I pay for the food.”

 

“But this is not…” Fernando felt embarrassed. Of course, it was natural for an Alpha, a decent one at least, to ask an Omega out and pay for everything. Thus Mister Ramos would deem it his duty to take care of his date. The only problem was, Fernando was a Beta. Not only was this not part of the social norm, but it also made Fernando feel slightly emasculated. He did have a high-paying job after all and could afford a simple lunch without any difficulty.

 

Sensing Fernando’s discomfort, Mister Ramos stopped at once and looked concerned, “What is the matter, Fernando? Have I offended you in some way? If you do not wish to have lunch with me…”

 

“It’s not that,” said Fernando quickly. Taking a deep breath, he decided to tell Mister Ramos his true thoughts, “I do enjoy lunch with you, particularly our conversation. I just, well, I don’t want to sound ungrateful because it is a lovely gesture. But I want to pay for my own food because I might be a Beta, but I am as capable of working and earning money and taking care of myself as anyone else. I don’t want to feel indebted to you. I want our lunch to be between friends, equals.” He looked at Mister Ramos and waited for his response. He felt nervous but determined. He was as good as anyone else. He was not going to let his gender define his worth, not anymore.

 

The look on Mister Ramos’s face was most peculiar. It changed from shocked, to confused, to pensive, to impressed. Fernando let out a breath he did not realise he was holding. So Mister Ramos was not offended after all.

 

“Thank you very much for telling me this,” the tone of Mister Ramos’s voice was very sincere, “I really appreciate your honesty. I reckon that’s why I like talking to you so much since not many people around me wish to tell me the truth,” he smiled sadly and Fernando felt a surge of sympathy and fondness for the young Alpha, “I must apologise if I offended you. I try my best to be open-minded but I suppose I’m not doing a very good job.”

 

“It’s not your fault at all!” cried Fernando, eager to reassure Mister Ramos for he genuinely was not offended, “You are one of the best Alphas I’ve ever met. Most of them treat us like servants and second-class citizens. You’re different and you’re kind. You’ve done your best, given the circumstances you’re in.”

 

When Mister Ramos looked more confused than relieved, Fernando hastily added, “I mean, we cannot blame others for not knowing, can we? If you don’t know something, then it’s not your fault. I didn’t know it before and I was…”

 

“Didn’t know what?” asked Mister Ramos and Fernando almost gasped. Damn, he had almost let slip SJTO’s secret. What was he going to do now?

 

Fernando’s panicked expression certainly did not help the matter, for Mister Ramos looked more serious now. “Didn’t know what?” pressed Mister Ramos. Fernando’s face paled even more. He did not know what to do. The Mister never gave Fernando express permission to actually divulge the truth about SJTO to Mister Ramos. He could not betray the Mister’s trust. But how could he get out of this situation?

 

“Fernando, breathe,” Mister Ramos’s voice finally registered in Fernando’s ears and he realised that he was almost hyperventilating. Mister Ramos’s large strong hands were holding him and rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. Just breathe with me.”

 

So Fernando did. In and out, in and out. He focused his eyes on Mister Ramos’s handsome face and breathed with him until he felt his heart rate return back to normal.

 

“Thanks,” muttered Fernando, feeling thoroughly embarrassed, “and I’m sorry.”

 

“No, I should be the one apologising,” Mister Ramos looked troubled, “I shouldn’t have pressed you. I just…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “I… I know it’s a difficult time right now. I’m not as blind and simple as people imagine me to be. But you need to know I will never hurt you, Fernando. You can always trust me and if you need any help, I’ll always be there for you.”

 

When Fernando looked into Mister Ramos’s dark eyes, he could only see sincere regret and genuine concern. Plucking up his courage, Fernando decided to take a risk. “In that case, there’s indeed something you should know…”

 

It took Fernando almost an hour to recount all he had witnessed and learnt from his trip to SJTO. Mister Ramos listened with rapt attention but asked very few questions. As the silence stretched on, Fernando began to feel more uneasy. Was this idea a massive mistake that could cost them not only their work but also potentially their lives?

 

“I never know these things,” when Mister Ramos finally opened his mouth, his tone was soft and thoughtful, “I think it explained some of the doubts I’ve always had about Omegas though.” His eyes locked with Fernando’s, “If anyone else has told me such tales, I would have written them off as paranoid with conspiracy theories. But I trust you and your judgement. If you have seen those Omegas unaffected by the drugs, I believe you.”

 

A huge wave of relief flooded through Fernando, so much that he forgot himself for a moment and threw himself at Mister Ramos for a tight embrace. He could feel Mister Ramos freeze for a split second before the young Alpha returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. “Thank you so much for believing me! It means so much to me!”

 

When they finally separated, both of their faces were slightly pink. Mister Ramos recovered first, “So, what do you want me to do to help?”

 

“If we get your vote, we could pass the law!” said Fernando enthusiastically. “Once the law is passed, we can…”

 

“It’s more complicated than that,” sighed Mister Ramos, which put a dash on Fernando’s fervour, “Even if we can get the law passed on paper, it doesn’t mean it can be executed. Mister Pérez and very possibly Mister Villa will oppose the law. I don’t know about Mister Villa but I can assure you that Mister Pérez will do all he can to thwart the law and he’s very influential. Not to mention that the public opinion on Omegas won’t change just because of a new law.”

 

“I know,” muttered Fernando, “I just thought that, well, if you’re onboard, maybe we stand a chance.”

 

Mister Ramos patted Fernando’s back soothingly, “You’ve certainly got my vote and it will definitely increase your chance. But we need more. Do you want me to, I dunno, maybe talk to Mister Villa about it? I could drop some hints and see how he feel about it.”

 

Fernando chewed his lips in hesitation. If it only involved himself, he would have given Mister Ramos permission right away. But this was so much more than that. Sensing his worry, Mister Ramos assured him, “Don’t worry. I’ll be very tactful and careful. I won’t let anything slip, I promise. If I get just a hint that he’s not into the idea, I’ll stop right away.” When Fernando still didn’t look convinced, Mister Ramos added, “I know David. I’ve known him for a long time actually. He may be a tetchy sod, but he’s not inherently cruel. He’s reasonable and can be persuaded. I just think that we need to at least give it a try.”

 

“Okay,” said Fernando, feeling a bit better about this. “Let me check with the Mister and I’ll get back to you.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Surprisingly, persuading everyone, particularly the Mister, proved to be very easy.

 

“I agree with Mister Ramos,” said the Mister with more confidence than Fernando felt, “It’s time for drastic measures. People seldom give Mister Ramos enough credit for his tact but he’s more than just a pretty face. From my observation, Mister Villa actually values his opinion and they share an easy companionship. Not many people can claim that with Mister Villa.”

 

So it was decided. Fernando informed Mister Ramos the next day. As Mister Ramos did not know when exactly he would approach Mister Villa, there was little for Fernando to do but wait anxiously., however, a week had passed without news.

 

“I just need to find the right opening,” said Mister Ramos at one of their more and more usual dinner get-togethers. “I also want to get him in a good mood. And I know for sure that he’s not in a good mood this week. He’s been forced to go on dates with 7 Omegas this week. Maybe I can find a chance next week.”

 

The chance did come that week, except it did not bring the results they desired.

 

“I’m really sorry,” said Mister Ramos, and he looked it too. Fernando’s heart sank. “I tried talking to David but he would not budge. At first, he thought I was having a laugh. When he realised that I was serious, however, he became very suspicious. He thought I was hoodwinked. He demanded to know where I get my information from.”

 

This was the worst case scenario really. Not only did Mister Villa reject the idea, he knew their secrets too. Fernando felt that his days were numbered. “So he knew it was me?”

 

“Of course not!” cried Mister Ramos in surprise, “I’d never betray you like that. He has no idea where I get my information from, which of course, made him even angrier. I didn’t even mention SJTO. I think he’s under the impression that some Omega has bewitched me and seduced me for his own gain. I didn’t necessarily correct him because I don’t want him to link you to this. But I think we should stop seeing each other for a while, just to be safe. You should probably stay away from SJTO too, just in case.”

 

Fernando nodded. Even though he did not like the idea of not seeing Mister Ramos, for he had really learnt to treasure his time spent with the kind young Alpha, Fernando knew it was necessary. “Of course. I’m going to miss you but I know this is for the best. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. Will you be okay?”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Mister Ramos gave Fernando a reassuring smile, “David might be a bigoted bastard but he’s my friend. Besides, he values Alphas too much to put me in any real danger. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you though. Just,” he looked at Fernando pleadingly, “stay safe. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself if anything happens to you.”

 

After Fernando told the Mister this dreadful news, he was prepared to be reprimanded for this was, after all, his suggestion. To his great surprise, the Mister simply sighed, “I can’t say I’m that surprised. David has always been very stubborn and intelligent too. He rarely lets other’s opinions sway him. I was hoping Sergio’s friendship with him might soften his position but apparently not.”

 

“What are we going to do now?” asked Fernando in a small voice.

 

“We lay low and wait,” said the Mister calmly, “I have prepared for this scenario. Thanks to Sergio, we might chalk this off as one Omega wanting more out his union with Sergio. There will be no SJTO activities for a week and we will be extra cautious. As for you, I’d say stay away from Sergio and SJTO for a couple weeks too. With some luck, we may be able to avert this crisis.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Taking the Mister’s word to heart, Fernando kept himself busy with work for the next month. SJTO kept a low profile too, initiating only two protests in that month, which seemed to placate Mister Pérez, if only very slightly. Whenever Fernando ran into Mister Villa, he always acted extra respectful and cautious while surreptitiously watching the older Alpha for any signs of suspicion. Fortunately, no causes of alarm could be discerned from Mister Villa. So finally, after a month of isolation and non-stop working, Fernando finally began to breathe and live his life as normal, for he was sure the dangers had passed. How wrong he was!


	54. Period 7 - 2552 AD

Since Fernando’s first visit, he had been given permission to visit SJTO quarter by himself. With his hectic schedule as the Mister’s personal assistant, however, Fernando never got to go as much as he would have liked. Whenever SJTO needed help though, Fernando never hesitated to lend a hand. He had grown quite close to Antonio during his visits and he admired David for his quiet intelligence. Therefore, when David asked him to stop by to help with his research, Fernando agreed gladly. He even left work at the regular time so he could get to SJTO headquarter around dinner time, giving him a solid several hours to work with David.

 

“Thank you so much for coming,” smiled David as he greeted Fernando in the library, “I know your work is extremely busy so I really appreciate your help.”

 

“Of course,” said Fernando, though he was not sure how he could be of any help to David. He was, after all, little more than a glorified clerk, not a scientist. “How can I help you?”

 

“I believe I’m approaching a critical stage of my research but everything is rather chaotic at the moment,” David scratched his head, looking slightly abashed, “I’m never good at organisation but Pablo commended you very highly on this particular skill. Perhaps you can help me organise my documents and findings?”

 

Now that was something Fernando was good at. He did not acquire the job of the Mister’s personal assistant for nothing after all. “Let me know how you want these documents organised and arranged and I’ll get them done.”

 

Once they set to work, Fernando became immersed in the numerous documents that he forgot everything else around him, until they were rudely interrupted by the shouting outside.

 

“What in the name of Antonio is…”

 

The answer to their question soon presented himself in the form of Mister Villa, as the Alpha kicked the door of the library open with such force that it bounced back and forth, startling both Fernando and David. Fernando’s heart sank at the look of absolute rage and disgust on Mister Villa’s face.

 

“So,” spat Mister Villa, “my suspicions have been correct. You really are a dark horse, Beta Sanz, beguiling my friend Sergio and worse yet, fraternising with the enemy. I never take you for a spy but you make a fine one. Had I not been patient, I might have let you slip through my fingers.”

 

“It’s not what you think,” said Fernando but Mister Villa raised a hand to stop him. “Silence! I’m not one of those fools that you can charm and deceive with your pretty face and smile. I only trust what I see and I’ve seen enough to condemn you. Do you deny that you’re working with SJTO?”

 

“Well, no. But…”

 

“Then you have committed treason after the Leadership had ruled that SJTO are instigators and need to be stopped. How many of our secrets have divulged to these pathetic worms?”

 

“They are not pathetic and I’m just doing what is right,” cried Fernando angrily, his own dilemma temporarily forgotten, “I’m not a traitor! We’ve all been deceived by the government. I did not know the truth until I came here. We need to work with SJTO to help bring justice to our Galaxy.”

 

“How dare you speak to me like this?” growled Mister Villa, “And you dare accuse me of dishonesty when it is you who are instigating problems for the Galaxy! I swear you will receive your punishment once I bring you back to the city. I may need to lock you up in a mental ward for all the lunacy you’re speaking.”

 

“How do you know it’s lunacy?” David’s voice remained surprisingly calm and soft and Mister Villa snapped his gaze to the young Omega, “How do you know he’s not telling the truth if you’re unwilling to hear his side of the story?”

 

“Who are you?” asked Mister Villa brusquely, his eyes filled with mistrust.

 

“Forgive my manners,” smiled David as if he was greeting a friend not an enemy intent upon destroying them, “I am David Silva, Omega researcher of SJTO. You must be Mister Villa, one of the Alpha Leaders. Your reputation precedes you. Delighted to make your acquaintance.”

 

Mister Villa started at David, clearly at a loss at the presence of an eloquent and well-mannered Omega. “How come? You’re an Omega? But…”

 

“Indeed I am,” David inclined his head slightly, “You must be quite curious as to how I have acquired my, forgive my arrogance, knowledge and intelligence. I cannot blame you, for I am quite different from the Omegas you’re used to seeing. But I am not unique, though I’d very much like to be. My brothers here share the same level of intellect and strong will as I do for we have never been controlled and repressed. We grow up here where our growth, both physical and mental, are strongly encouraged. We learnt to hone our skills and reach our potentials. Our brothers outside, however, have no such luck. Drugged even before their birth, they have been manipulated and brainwashed to believe that their sole purpose in life is to be dominated, to provide pleasure to those who are supposedly superior to them. That’s is why we fight for the rights of the Omegas here in SJTO. Because everybody is born equal and deserves a chance. When our brothers are robbed of their voices, we speak for them, because nobody else does.”

 

The silence that followed was unnerving. Fernando’s nervous gaze switched back and forth between Mister Villa and David, who had their eyes locked with each other. The expression on Mister Villa’s face was hard to read while David remained serenely peaceful. The silence was only interrupted by the appearance of the Mister, Saúl, Jorge, and Antoine.

 

“David, are you alright?” Antoine’s voice was filled with anxiety as he rushed forward to his friend, checking him over thoroughly while completely ignoring Mister Villa. David gave him a reassuring smile, “I’m fine, dear friend. I only just had a pleasant conversation with Mister Villa. No need to worry.”

 

The look Antoine bestowed on Mister Villa was far less warm and friendly, “He barged in and threatened to arrest us all. You cannot trust him.”

 

“I’m not going to judge someone until he’s fully informed of the truth. Mister Villa,” he turned to the still silent Alpha, “I’ve told you the truth but I don’t expect you to simply take my word for it. I’m more than willing to show you proof of my words if you’re so inclined.”

 

Everyone waited with baited breath for Mister Villa’s answer. The Alpha’s reply was firm and simple, “Show me everything.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It took a little while to show Mister Villa everything. But thanks to the work of their many predecessors, the evidence of the government’s drugging and controlling of Omegas was preserved in great detail. By the end of the session, Mister Villa’s expression had turned from suspicion to absolute disgust.

 

“That is…” the Alpha struggled to find the right word, “I can’t even… It’s totally and utterly despicable. I… And all these years…”

 

“Indeed,” nodded the Mister gravely, “I found it hard to believe at the beginning too. But the overwhelming evidence all points to the ugly truth. You have met David and Antoine. I trust you find them both smart and dedicated, not the simple submissive ones out there. All of our Omegas are living proofs that despite the biological differences, we’re all equals. Maybe it’s time we finally treat them like one.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Much to Fernando’s surprise, Mister Villa decided to stay in SJTO headquarter for a couple of days. “I need to see things for what they really are,” grumbled the Alpha. What he did not state explicitly, of course, was that he still had his doubts. The Mister had taken no issue with Mister Villa’s decision.

 

“It takes time to come to terms with the truth,” said the Mister sagely, “You are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you want. I’m sure we’ll try our best to make you feel right at home.”

 

“I can be your guide,” volunteered David and Mister Villa’s head snapped to him so quickly that Fernando worried for the Alpha’s neck. “I’m working on the research of a heat suppressant that will hopefully undo the decades of medication in an Omega’s body. If you don’t mind, I can show you some of my research data as well. That might help provide more insight into the damage done to the Omega’s body by the medication.”

 

So it was settled. David would act as Mister Villa’s guide while the Alpha stayed in SJTO headquarter. Fernando was still not 100% certain about the whole situation. Knowing Mister Villa and his volatile temper, everything could still blow up in the blink of an eye. But he had to content himself with the fact that the Alpha seemed receptive to their ideas, meaning that the immediate danger of being exposed was averted.

 

“Mister Villa will come around.” The Mister assured Fernando as they left SJTO Headquarter with Saúl and Jorge. “I’ve known him for quite a while and I believe we had him convinced. He’s just in denial right now because his world has just been turned upside down. I can hardly blame him. It took me a good week to come to terms with the harsh reality.”

 

“If anything,” added Saúl with confidence in his voice, “Mister Villa is not going to sell us to Mister Pérez regardless of whether he supports our cause or not.”

 

“How can you be sure of that?” Fernando was doubtful. Even though he knew that Mister Villa had a much higher moral standard and considered himself above such acts, Fernando would not put it past the Alpha to report them, especially when Mister Villa believed he was doing the right thing.

 

“Because reporting us to Mister Pérez will be disastrous for all involved,” smiled Saúl almost too smugly, “particularly the Omegas. Imagine the consequences. They will be rounded up and either sent to powerful Alpha families as slaves or sold to pleasure houses. Mister Villa will never let that happen, not when one particular Omega has caught his eye.”

 

“David?”

 

“Who else?” smirked Saúl, “Haven’t you seen the way Villa looked at our little David? I’ve never seen him like that with anybody. Trust me, he has lost his heart to our clever Omega, whether he has realised it or not.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once Fernando was back in the city, he contacted Mister Ramos immediately. Despite the lateness of the hour, they met in Mister Ramos’s magnificent mansion, where Fernando recounted the whole story with Mister Villa to Mister Ramos.

 

“He found out about you and SJTO?” cried Mister Ramos, his eyes big as saucers and filled with concern, “Has he threatened you? Are you okay? Is he going to tell on you?”

 

“Yes, yes, I don’t think so,” answered Fernando patiently, “I think we have managed to convince him. At least that’s what the Mister thinks. So hopefully he won’t turn us in. I just need to tell you because you’re implicated too. If Mister Villa does decide to…”

 

“Oh, forget about me,” Mister Ramos waved his hand as if this matter was so trivial it was not worth bothering with, “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. I think you should get out of the city.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m serious! David can be very mercurial. What if he changes his mind? I’m not going to let any harm come to you!”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Fernando tried his best to assuage Mister Ramos of his worries. This had not been his intention when he came to tell the young Alpha the happenings of the night, “The Mister and Saúl both believed that Mister Villa will keep this a secret,” he hesitated, wondering if he should divulge the phantom attraction between Mister Villa and David. Eventually, the concerned look on Mister Ramos’s face made up his mind and he went ahead to tell Mister Ramos Saúl’s suspicion.

 

“It is quite possible,” mused Mister Ramos, his posture much more relaxed now, “David had always valued intelligence, not to mention that he preferred someone quiet but strong-willed. It’s little wonder he hasn’t settled down for those qualities are so rare amongst Omegas we know. This David of yours, sweet Antonio, they even have the same name, sounds like the ideal companion David has been looking for.”

 

No matter how much Fernando distrusted Mister Villa, he had to concede that Saúl and Mister Ramos had most likely been correct. When he saw Mister Villa again in a couple days’ time, Fernando found the Alpha much more agreeable. Sure, Mister Villa was still taciturn and scowled more often than not. But that was just how Mister Villa was. It did happen a lot less often and more importantly, whenever he was not frowning and scowling, Mister Villa’s face was much softer and calmer. He no longer cast Fernando mistrustful or hostile looks, which made the young Beta believe that David had not only converted Mister Villa but had been a positive influence in the Alpha’s life as well.

 

Now that their biggest obstacle had been overcome, the Mister and SJTO spent all their time trying to finalise the bill they planned to pass. Titled “Equal Rights for All Genders Act”, the bill aimed to break the class barriers between not only between Omegas and Alphas but Betas and Alphas too. All drugs would be outlawed while David’s new antidote, which was finally ready and waiting for drugged Omega volunteers to test, would be widely distributed upon the success of its clinical trials. There would be no job limitations due to one’s gender. Everyone would be allowed to own properties should they wish to do so. The bill was long and exhaustive, as the Mister had tried his best to make everyone truly equal in their Galaxy.

 

“We’re going to present the bill to the Leadership tomorrow,” announced the Mister after a month of non-stop revising, “We will force a vote on it, which we will get the majority. Then hopefully, the bill will be passed and our dream can finally come true.”

 

Nobody in the room said anything for the prospect was too bright, almost too good to be true. Fernando had never felt so free in his life. Even though the bill had not passed yet, he knew he would never be the same. These past months with the Mister and STJO had opened a door for him to an exciting world he had never dared to even dream of before. He could not help but imagine the type of jobs he could do, the things he could achieve after the bill was passed. He believed that he could achieve great things for he knew now that he was capable of great things, things he did not believe in before. Once you had that feeling of empowerment, nobody could take it away.


	55. Period 7 - 2552 AD

Nobody expected an easy negotiation with Mister Pérez when the time had come to present the bill. Yet Fernando was still unprepared when it came to Mister Pérez’s wraths.

 

“I’m not going to sign this absolutely ridiculous and disgraceful bill, Pablo Simeone!” yelled Mister Pérez, waving his fist threateningly at the Mister. His face was flushed with anger that it had turned a delicate shade of puce. “I simply cannot believe that you,” he turned to Mister Ramos and Mister Villa, “would go with his disgusting plan! To let Omegas and Betas rule over us?! Have you all lost your mind? Or have you all decided to let your cock instead of your mind to make the decision for you?”

 

The look on the Mister’s face was thunderous, yet he had managed to remain calm when he addressed Mister Pérez, “We are not planning to let anyone rule over anyone. The purpose of the bill is to bring equality amongst all law-abiding citizens of the Galaxy. The previously underprivileged shall now have the opportunity to live like the others. It does not give them extra power and benefit whatsoever.”

 

“And we support the bill because we feel morally obligated to do so,” added Mister Ramos haughtily. He clearly was not impressed by either Mister Pérez’s outburst or his crude words. “The problem has been overlooked for far too long and we have decided to finally tackle it.”

 

“Just sign the goddamn bill,” snapped Mister Villa impatiently, “We have all done that so there’s a majority anyway.”

 

Mister Pérez looked downright murderous. But even he knew he could not stop the bill from passing into law. Sneering at them, Mister Pérez put his biosignature on the screen, “Fine. You may have my signature because I have to. But you know this is not going to work. You’re going to face uproars and revolutions. Don’t say I haven’t warned you but one day you’ll all come to regret this decision,” his smirk turned even more sinister, “if you’re lucky enough to be alive to witness it.”

 

Mister Villa stood up abruptly but the Mister put a warning hand on his arm to prevent any foolishness from the younger Alpha. When he turned to Mister Pérez, however, the Mister looked stern, almost cold, “Thank you for your concern, Mister Pérez. I think we are willing to take the risk, however. This law will be broadcasted and put into effect tomorrow. Nothing you say or do will put a stop to that. And rest assured, whoever try to thwart the law in any shape or form will be penalised. Have a good day.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

No matter how abominable Mister Pérez and his bigot might be, he was right in some sense. The law was indeed met with astonishment, confusion, and general resistance. Not only did the Alphas find it insulting, the Betas and Omegas found it unnecessary and meddling as well.

 

“Of course, it is not my place to criticise the decisions of Alphas,” said Gabi carefully when Fernando asked him how he felt about the law, “But I simply don’t understand the need of such law. Perhaps I’m just not as smart as Alphas like the Mister. I’m happy where I am. I don’t want equal rights. What can I do with it?”

 

“Such sentiments are quite understandable,” said the Mister during one of their regular meetings at SJTO headquarters. Fernando, Mister Ramos, and Mister Villa had all been initiated into the society and made regular appearances in such meetings. Mister Villa, in particular, seemed to like to spend time in the SJTO headquarter. “We have foreseen such reactions, which is why we must move fast to work out the suppressant. How is it going, David?”

 

“I’ve made some real progress,” said David with great enthusiasm that was usually associated with scientific discoveries, “Quite a few Omegas, particularly those from the pleasure houses and those abandoned by their Alphas, agreed to volunteer for the clinical trials. It had worked with minimal effects I can defect. The only thing I need right now is just more testers.”

 

“We can start recruiting more testers,” said Mister Villa with great determination in his eyes, “I think with our influence, we will be able to achieve that. We’ll even make it mandatory if necessary. I will personally ensure that.”

 

Over the next couple of months, this had been their sole goal. Fernando tried his best too. He had managed to persuade Gabi, along with some other Omegas he knew from work, to join the trials for David. All of them pitched in, but Mister Ramos proved to be the most successful. With his winning smile and twinkly eyes, he had even managed to persuade some young Omegas from those old families, who were probably his secret admirers, to join.

 

The results were most stunning. Fernando was present at one of the tests to witness the results. It was liberating to see the Omegas’ eyes clear up after they drank the antidote. As the trials went on, David kept perfecting the recipe to eliminate the side effects experienced by the testers. By the end of the first three months, the drug was deemed safe and effective enough for mass production and distribution.

 

In the meantime though, they had to work extremely hard to contend with the current resistance. Various large-scale protests had broken out all across the Galaxy, disrupting traffic and business. There had even been attacks on Omegas and Omega schools. Even Mister Ñíguez had been drafted away to maintain peace and quiet, which greatly worried the young Alpha.

 

“Who’s going to guard you when I’m gone,” Mister Ñíguez asked the Mister, who gave him a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry about me. Now that the law has passed, Mister Pérez will find himself more preoccupied with the law instead of SJTO. In fact, I suspect that he’s behind some of those more violent attacks.”

 

“I’ll protect Pablo,” piped up Antoine. When Mister Ñíguez did not look reassured, Antoine added, “Unless you’ve forgotten, I’m most adept at close-range fighting and piloting. I’m thinking about joining the army actually. I’m sure I can protect Pablo. I’ll never let any harm come to him. I swear it on my life.”

 

It was actually true. Fernando had witnessed Antoine’s combat skills himself and was genuinely surprised. Despite his slight figure, Antoine was lithe, quick, and precise. His piloting skills were even more superlative. Now that the career barriers had been broken, Omegas were allowed to choose whichever occupations they desired, as long as they qualified. Antoine would certainly qualify as a fighter pilot.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once the antidotes had been widely distributed, however, the tide started to turn slowly for them. As more and more Omegas came out of their drug-induced trance, they started to muster up the courage to leave their houses to venture out into the world. Unfortunately, their lack of education and even experience in the world meant that very few had the skills to contribute more to the society. Even though jobs were made available to them, very few qualified. Schools were built to accommodate the special needs of those Omegas and some were even brave enough to apply. Yet it would take quite a while for them to be trained for those more demanding jobs previously unavailable to them. The SJTO Omegas, on the other hand, thrived in the new order. Antoine became one of the first Omegas to join the army. Despite his gender and the constant discrimination he faced, Antoine soon proved himself a formidable pilot with superior flying skills and strategic visions.

 

“I would never let anyone judge or belittle me for who I am,” said the lithe Omega with confidence and conviction, “They can say all they want about me and I don’t give a f**k. The moment I’m up in the air, they’ll all shut their big fat mouth.”

 

Of course, protests and occasionally attacks still occur every now and then but it was less frequent than before. The social structure, however, was harder to change. The oldest families, with Mister Pérez as their leader, still opposed the law fiercely. Their wealth and influence meant that this was creating more obstacles when it came to fundraising, media coverage, etc. Omegas were still looked down upon by a large portion of the population. But some younger generations began to see the trend and were willing to at least attempt to adapt to the new order. 

 

With these positive changes, however small they might be, the spirits within SJTO were quite high.

 

“Once all the Omegas are liberated, they will become a force to be reckoned with,” the look on Antoine’s face was simply radiant, “the Betas will soon follow suit and Alphas have to concede. I mean, the decent ones are already reconsidering their positions. Surely the whole society will accept the law in no time.”

 

“I would not be so optimistic,” said Mister Villa with a frown on his face, “Even though they may have to acknowledge the truth, it does not mean they will like or accept it. We’re basically taking their privileges away. It does not matter the reason, they won’t like it. We’re relying on their conscience and moral standards to agree to sacrifice their own benefit for the equality of another group. Some may do it but there will be a large group that will oppose the change. It’s human nature.”

 

“Unfortunately, I have to agree with Mister Villa,” signed the Mister, “Even though we’re making good progress, we still face an uphill battle. We must be prepared and alert. I know Mister Pérez too well. He’s never one to go down without a fight.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The Mister’s words came true in a matter of weeks and in the least expected form. Both Fernando and Jorge were woken up harshly by an emergency message from the Mister, asking them to report to the office immediately in the middle of the night on a Saturday no less. When they walked into the office, Fernando was astonished to find the usually empty place in a state of hysterics. People were running around like crazy, yelling and shouting nonstop. Inside the Mister’s office, Saúl, Antoine, David, Mister Villa, Mister Ramos, and several other generals were already engaged in heated discussions.

 

“We need to negotiate,” one of the Alpha generals seemed thoroughly annoyed by the situation, “This is ridiculous. We’re not going to fight Mister Pérez and our neighbouring Galaxies over some absurd laws about Omegas.”

 

“Excuse me,” snapped Antoine, his eyes ablaze, “But what Mister Pérez did is nothing short of treason. The law was passed based on the majority vote and he should respect that. Not only does he completely disregard our legal system, but he even consorts with the enemies and threatens to invade us. This is completely unacceptable and we cannot give in to such outrageous behaviour and demands.”

 

“I agree,” muttered Mister Villa gloomily, “If we acquiesce to his request this time, we will be regarded as weak and pusillanimous. Mister Pérez and leaders from other Galaxies will take more advantage of us in the future. We must defend our sovereignty by standing firm and fighting back.”

 

Fernando found himself reeling from absolute shock. Mister Pérez had betrayed them and initiated an attack with the help of their neighbouring Galaxies? How was that possible? Even though those Galaxies shared their old view of Omegas, there had not been a war for over two centuries. How could there be one now? But even as Fernando asked himself these questions, he knew the answer already. Mister Pérez had been dissatisfied with the power structure of their Galaxy for quite some time. He wished to replace the Mister with himself and Mister Ramos and Mister Villa with his minions. Mister Pérez had always been a power-hungry Alpha who will stop at nothing to achieve what he wanted. 

 

“But how are we going to win the war?” the Alpha general sounded exasperated, “They greatly outnumber us, not to mention that some of our soldiers feel sympathetic towards their ideas. They may not fight very hard.”

 

“We recruit more,” said the Mister calmly, “Any Omegas and Betas willing to fight will be allowed to join the army and fight. If they do, they will enjoy the same privilege as the Alpha soldiers. As for those Alpha soldiers, it is time for them to pull their head out of their privileged arses. This is not about Omegas. This is an invasion of our Galaxy. It is their duty and highest honour to defend their Galaxy, their home.” He turned to David, “We need to inform the public of this incident so they can be prepared. We need to inspire people to fight and defend our home against the enemies. Have you got any ideas?”

 

“I can only speak from personal experience,” mused David, “When I first started working for SJTO, I experienced doubts and fear too. What eventually convinced me was stories of the fighters of the past. Whenever I had another moment of hesitation, I reminded myself of heroes like Antonio the Saviour. His situation back on earth was thousand times more perilous than mine yet he persevered. If he can do it, why can’t we?”

 

“I like the idea,” interjected Jorge, “except people idolise Antonio the Saviour now. So many stories have been told about him that it is hard to tell which ones are real and which ones are mere fantasy.”   
  


“That’s a good point,” nodded David thoughtfully, “We need something similar, a story of some sort, but of ordinary people like us. Once people see what everyday citizens can do together, they will be inspired and encouraged.”

 

A sudden inspiration hit Fernando, “The film about those Resistance fighters during the Second World War. That’s the perfect one. It was the film that convinced me to join SJTO. It’s about everyday people and it’s already made. We can broadcast it widely so everyone can watch it.”

 

“Excellent idea, Fernando,” the Mister clasped his hands together in excitement, “Why don’t you work with David and Jorge on the details of that? You are, after all, the best at organisation.”

 

Puffing up his chest proudly, Fernando nodded and left the office with David and Jorge, leaving the rest to discuss military strategies.


	56. Period 7 - 2552 AD

The first attack came later that day. The loud and sharp siren jolted Fernando out of his working trance. Exchanging a worried look with David and Jorge, Fernando rushed to the window to see what was going on.

 

The normally dark sky was lit with such bright lights that it felt like daytime. Flashes of red from the explosions could be seen in the sky, as missiles from the invading ships met the protective network of the Galaxy. It was hard to make out those ships for they were still far away. But judging by the number of little dots of lights, there were a lot of them.

 

“I need to go,” said Jorge in an urgent tone, “I’ve got to check on the protective network to make sure it’s intercepting the attacks. There are too many of them out there.”

 

“Is it going to stop all of them?” asked Fernando, hope rising up in his heart. He knew Jorge. If he helped design this network, it had got to be exceptional.

 

“Not all but I’m hoping most,” replied Jorge almost absent-mindedly, gathering all his things, “Don’t get too complacent though. I wouldn’t be surprised if it fails after a while, given the intensity of the attack.”

 

Unfortunately, Jorge was correct as usual. As more and more missiles came their way, Fernando could see the cracks in the network. Warnings had been sent out to all residents and visitors of the Galaxy, urging everyone to stay home and take cover whenever necessary.

 

“We need to fight back,” said David, looking anxious, “If this continues, the network won’t hold up and we’ll be in serious trouble.”

 

Right on cue, a fleet of fighter ships rose up in the sky, roaring towards the enemies. Fernando felt his heart leap up. They were indeed fighting back. Leading the fleet was a small but incredibly fast ship. It cut through the sky like a light graceful bird. Fernando had never seen anyone fly like this before.

 

“Oh sweet Antonio, it’s Antoine,” gasped David and Fernando felt the Omega’s vice-like grip on his arm, “Oh dear, please let him be alright.”

 

“He’ll be fine,” Fernando tried to comfort his clearly distressed friend, “He’s the best pilot I’ve ever seen and trust me, I’ve seen quite a few when I accompanied the Mister to the different military parades.”

 

David sighed, “I know he’s good. But he can also be rash and too courageous for his own good. I know he’ll dive right into the thick of the fight before anyone else and he won’t hold back. When the time comes to it, Antoine will not hesitate for a second to sacrifice himself to either save others or protect the Galaxy.”

 

There was little they could do from the ground, however, since the front line was millions of miles away. So Fernando focused on what he could do and threw himself into the work. In less than a week, he had all the logistics worked out and the film was broadcasted to the entire Galaxy.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The effect was rather astonishing. The public opinion on the war, which was divided at best before the film, turned slowly to their favour. More and more people started to view it as an invasion of their home and a war they had to fight. People’s opinions of Omegas also changed subtly, as one could not help but draw parallels between the Omegas and the Jews in the Second World War. While before, Mister Pérez was a character that was met with understanding and even had a secret following amongst Alphas, he was now regarded as a traitor who consorted with the enemy for his own personal agenda. In the weeks that followed, Fernando had seen so many more requests to either enlist or help out with the war in some way that he was almost overwhelmed by the logistics of it all.

 

In the meantime, Antoine was certainly earning himself a reputation as a fierce fighter and brilliant pilot. Even though Saúl was the leader of the army, the brain behind their operations, Antoine was the sharp knife plunging into the enemy's’ heart. Stories of his exploits came back to them at such a fast speed for almost everyone was simply amazed by the skills and courage demonstrated by the Omega.

 

David, on the other hand, was known in the army as the Guardian Angel, for his kindness and caring towards the injured, as well as his prestigious medical skills. Once or twice, Fernando even saw some Alpha doctors consulting with David on the best course of treatment.

 

“We have more Omegas signing up to join the army,” said Gabi, now an assistant to Fernando after the completion of his treatment, “Most of them don’t have a lot of skills but they’re all willing to work and train hard. We can also use some helping hands when it comes to cooking, cleaning, nursing, etc.”

 

To solve this problem, during his very occasional breaks from fighting, Antoine could be seen around, training new pilots, Alphas, Betas and Omegas alike. He was soon joined by David and the other SJTO Omegas, who thanks to their upbringing, all had an expertise of their own to impart.

 

Betas volunteered to help too, who turned out to be a real asset. Given their more advanced skill sets and their willingness to work hard, Beta volunteers soon became the most popular ones in the army. Along with the Omegas, they worked hard to maintain and repair fighter ships, heal and cure the wounded, and cook and nourish the fighters who were risking their lives out there, fighting for their beliefs and home. Some Betas even joined the army, along with a few Omegas. As it turned out, Betas and Omegas, once free from the oppression, could turn as fast, and sometimes faster, than Alphas. Fernando had never seen the Galaxy working so closely together towards the same goal. And he just knew that they had to win this war. There was no reason for them not to.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Peace finally came, a good 6 months later. Fernando could still remember the day when their troops returned from a decisive win that almost wiped out the enemy’s entire fleet. Everyone rushed out of their house to await their heroes’ return. Fernando trailed behind the Mister, Jorge and Mister Ramos on his side. He could feel Jorge fidgeting next to him and could not help but smile. His Beta friend had been on edge ever since Saúl left for this battle. He had even wanted to go along as a maintenance engineer of Saúl’s ship. The Mister had to personally intervene, for Jorge was their best engineer and he was needed here. It certainly did not improve Jorge’s mood but he bore it with dignity while throwing himself into work.

 

The one that surprised Fernando the most was Mister Ramos. He had always thought the young Alpha was a bit of a dandy from a good family with great fortune, kind but with little talent. Despite Mister Ramos’s help in converting Mister Villa, Fernando did not expect the young Alpha to actually contribute to the war, other than perhaps arranging parties to help everyone relax. Mister Ramos, however, turned out to be a good strategist, especially when it came to defence. He was now the head of the Department of Defence and Fernando had never seen him happier.

 

When the fighter ships landed one after another, the crowd cheered as the pilots descended from the ship. Leading the group were Saúl and Antoine, both looking battle-worn but elated. While Saúl managed to maintain a professional front of a seasoned soldier, Antoine could hardly contain himself when they got closer. Throwing caution to the wind, Antoine ran the last several metres to throw himself into the Mister’s arms. To Fernando, and perhaps everyone’s, surprise, the Mister returned the favour by lifting the smaller Omega into the air, their lips locked the whole time. Their enthusiasm seemed to have spun Jorge on, who followed suit and almost caught Saúl off-guard. The clapping and wolf whistles from the soldiers, combined with the laughter from the crowd brought such joy to Fernando’s heart. Finally, they were one Galaxy, where everyone accepted each other for who they were.

 

When he was about to bring his hand to wipe off the tears of joy from his face, however, Fernando felt someone else grab it. Looking to his side, Fernando could see the handsome profile of Mister Ramos, smiling at the happy reunion. If Fernando hadn’t come to know the Alpha so well, he would have been utterly perplexed by the whole situation. But Fernando did spot a small tinge of pink on Mister Ramos’s face, betraying the young Alpha’s nervousness. His old self might have recoiled with horror, for a Beta was never to mix with an Alpha. But Fernando knew better now. Smiling to himself, he clasped his hand with Mister Ramos’s. After all this, after everything they had been through, all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol like I said, not your usual ABO stories, mostly because I can't write smut to save my life. Also I don't think smut really fits into this story anyway.


	57. Epilogue

Nearly a year had passed since the peace treaty had been signed. Time really flew for they had so much to do after the war, so much to repair and rebuild, both physically and mentally.

 

Even though they had won the war, it was not without sacrifices. Fernando had lost count of the number of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas who had lost their lives during the war. Had it not been their new-found unity, Fernando doubted that they would have been able to pick up the pieces. But slowly, bit by bit, they did. Now, with the anniversary of the end of the war approaching, Fernando could not help but feel grateful for what they had endured and how it had shaped their society into its current state.

 

No gender barriers existed nowadays, at least not the obvious ones. All the subjects and occupations were open to all genders, where more and more co-ed schools were established to allow all three genders to interact with each other since a young age. Certain privileges that were only open to Alphas before were now granted to all. Marriage, for instance, had become much more equal between an Alpha and Omega. Omegas could now inherit and own properties, vote, divorce their Alpha husbands if they wished, and receive benefits like child support. The rules against marriages between certain genders were also abolished. Betas could marry Alphas or Omegas if they chose, same for same-gender marriages.

 

Of course, it was not all rainbow and sunshine. Even though open discriminations against any gender were forbidden, Fernando could still see subtle prejudices more often than he would have liked. Some still believed that Alphas were superior and it was harder for Omegas and Betas to obtain high-paying or managerial jobs. Every now and then, a story of domestic abuse would make it to the headline and it broke Fernando’s heart every time. But at least it was newsworthy nowadays and the abuser would be punished, whereas before it was never even considered an issue. Their society was still slowly evolving and Fernando felt sure that one day, everyone would be regarded as true equals.

 

On this particular day, however, Fernando had no time to ponder on the complex social and political issues, for it was an important day of celebration. Three couples, the Mister (Fernando still could not get used to the idea of addressing him as Pablo) and Antoine, David and Mister Villa, and Jorge and Saúl, were getting married. Given the status of the couples, it was naturally a highly-anticipated event. Some news feed even went as far as labelling it “the Weddings of the Century”. But the couples insisted on a small private ceremony and Fernando felt extremely honoured to have been invited.

 

True to their roots, the couples chose the mountain where the SJTO headquarter used to be as the location of the ceremony. The organisation still existed but its focus had changed. Instead of advocating for basic rights for Omegas, it was now focusing on eliminating subtle prejudices and discriminations against any gender. Thanks to the new political environment, it was no longer a small forbidden group. The number of members had grown exponentially and headquarter was moved to the centre of the city. The old Headquarter in the mountain was now converted to a museum, where all the struggles of Omegas were documented so it would never be forgotten.

 

Today, however, the place was transformed into a warm, festive hall with the help of the original SJTO members. Fernando and Sergio helped too and he could not wait to see the reaction of the couples when they walked in.

 

When they finally did, all three couples, hand in hand, the whole room fell silent. Dressed in identically designed, different coloured yet perfectly tailored suits, all three couples looked absolutely gorgeous.

 

The Mister’s suit was a beautiful royal blue, grand and almost majestic. Antoine, on the other hand, wore a lively mint green one that screamed youth and hope. It was complemented by the radiant smile on his vibrant face.

 

Saúl opted for an elegant silky grey colour that brought out his eyes perfectly. Next to him, Jorge was dressed in simple ivory, looking peaceful and content. David, to everyone’s slight surprise, chose a dark red, almost burgundy colour. Fernando never expected the quiet and calm Omega to pick this colour but it looked perfect next to Mister Villa whose suit was the purest black. 

 

All three couples soon made it to the front of the altar, where they would exchange vows for their love and devotion for each other. Holding each other’s hand, even the calmest of them all like the Mister and Mister Villa found it hard to contain their emotions. Fernando could swear he saw the wetness in the corner of the Mister’s eyes while Mister Villa was beaming with such joy that he was almost unrecognisable from his usual sullen self. Fernando could hear the sniffle of Sergio next to him and he knew his eyes were watery too. They had been through so much together and overcome so many obstacles. At long last, fate had shown them her favour and here they were, binding their souls together after finding each other through all this time. As their friend, Fernando did not know a more perfect ending for them.

 

Life went on, in a Galaxy filled with hope and the occasional hardship. Somehow, Fernando knew that this was not the end of their journey. He might not know the future. But he did know was that every kindness that they left behind in this world could find its way to help others for many years to come. In the end, no life or being could remain immortal, yet it was love, compassion, and courage that transcended the ultimate space and time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the happy ending lol!
> 
> Yay! This is it! I can't believe I've done it. This whole process took me more than a year to complete and it's been such a fun experience. I tried to make things as factually accurate as possible. Actually, one of the things I really enjoyed in the process was researching facts for different stories of different time periods. 
> 
> Thank you so so much for everyone who has read, kudoed, and commented. It really means the world to me!


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